


as the sky folds

by fenying



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Miraculous Ladybug Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Miraculous Ladybug References, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenying/pseuds/fenying
Summary: Renjun has no idea what he did to deserve theindescribable burdengreat honor of being one-half of Seoul’s best crime-fighting duo.His tragic origin story? Having a swanky attic bedroom and balcony in the apartment above the bakery his father owns. His noble personality? Sassy, slightly violent, and unrepentant about his foul mouth. His awe-inspiring powers? Fighting off villains with his mad yo-yo skills and the tightest ladybug-patterned jumpsuit this side of the Pacific. His fatal weakness? Na Jaemin’s smile.Although you didn’t hear that last part from him.(or: a miraculous ladybug au!)
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun & Lee Jeno, Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 57
Kudos: 300
Collections: ’00 FIC FEST: ROUND ONE





	as the sky folds

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #0060: renmin miraculous ladybug au
> 
> if you don’t know what Miraculous Ladybug is, it’s a French cartoon centered around these two teens who have superhero alter egos! if i did things right, you should still be able to understand without any prior knowledge. if you do know what it is, i’m just gonna say straight up that i haven’t watched past the first season back in 2016 and i kinda bullshitted my way through with the wiki. 
> 
> **to my prompter:** this is probably not what you expected when you asked for a “renmin miraculous ladybug au.” i hope you enjoy it regardless :) sorry for being so late, but it’s finally here!  
>  **to my beta:** thank you for being so so wonderful! u were a huge help and i couldn’t have done it without you.  
>  **to admin tea:** thank you for the 31485713 extensions and everything, really. my eternal love <3
> 
> title (very) loosely inspired by bob dylan’s “it’s all over now, baby blue”
> 
> brief primer before we get started:  
> \- kwamis are little magic creatures about the size of a fist. they’re tied to the Miraculouses (special jewelry that allows the bearer to transform and have super powers, etc.)  
> \- chenle is renjun’s kwami  
> \- even if renjun is transformed into ladybug i still refer to him as renjun throughout. let me know if this is confusing anywhere  
> \- i hope everything makes sense! if it doesn't let me know and i'll edit things to make it clearer!
> 
> enjoy!!

**Episode 1: Searsucker**

“You are such a little fuckin’ pest sometimes,” Renjun growls, jammed up inside a janitor’s closet with one foot in a bucket and broom handles poking into his back. He can hear screaming through the door, along with loud crashing noises and—is that a flamethrower?

“That wasn’t very family friendly of you,” tuts his kwami, tucked away safely in the pocket of Renjun’s windbreaker. “You know they can’t make a TV show about you if you curse so much.”

“I don’t want a fucking TV show!” snaps Renjun, throwing up his hands in exasperation and accidentally knocking a dustpan off a shelf and onto his head. “Ow!”

“A cartoon, then?” The kwami is unfailingly unsympathetic, as always. “Or we could do graphic novels?”

Renjun grits his teeth. “Not the right time, Lele.” He presses an ear to the door. The screaming’s intensified, and the sounds of fire are closer than before. He really hopes Chat Noir’s out there, or at least on the way. “People are in danger. Why haven’t I transformed yet?”

“Because you haven’t said ‘spots on’ yet,” says his kwami, in a tone that denotes what he thinks of Renjun’s intelligence. “I can’t do anything unless you tell me to.”

Renjun glares down at his jacket pocket. “You couldn’t have reminded me earlier?”

“You’re the one who rushed into here without checking if anyone saw you,” argues his kwami. “You suck at protecting your own identity; I have to do all the work around here.”

“I panicked,” says Renjun. “Cut me a goddamn break, will you?”

“No, I won’t,” retorts the kwami, his words timed perfectly with another onslaught of screaming and crashing noises. “How long have you been Ladybug already? Hurry up before Chat Noir has to do the entire job without you!”

“Okay, geez,” says Renjun, subconsciously reaching a hand up to touch one of his earrings. “Chenle, spots on!”

🐞🐱

Renjun has no idea what he did to deserve the ~~indescribable burden~~ great honor of being one-half of Seoul’s best crime-fighting duo.

His tragic origin story? Having a swanky attic bedroom and balcony in the apartment above the bakery his father owns. His noble personality? Sassy, slightly violent, and unrepentant about his foul mouth. His awe-inspiring powers? Fighting off villains with his mad yo-yo skills and the tightest ladybug-patterned jumpsuit this side of the Pacific. His fatal weakness? Na Jaemin’s smile.

Although you didn’t hear that last part from him.

In all respects, though, he’s just a normal 17-year-old who hates school and has a dumb crush on one of his best friends. Whoever decided to sneak a box of earrings—the Miraculous that transforms him into Ladybug and gives him his powers— into his room should have seriously reevaluated their choice before they decided to ~~curse~~ trust him with the responsibility of making sure Seoul doesn’t go down in flames.

The only upside to all of this is that people always give him free food whenever he’s in costume. Perks of being the city’s biggest superhero.

🐞🐱

When Renjun finally makes it out of the closet and onto the scene, he’s just in time to see Chat Noir narrowly save his own tail from being singed straight off.

Chat Noir jumps off the second floor into the stairwell, rolling to reduce the impact. Behind him, a man decked in striped red and orange tights that looks suspiciously like Mr. Park from Chemistry lets out a cackle. He revs his flamethrower like it’s a chainsaw. “Come back here, kitty. I heard roasted cat is a black market delicacy these days!”

Renjun scans the open courtyard—Chat Noir did a good job of clearing everyone out of the area, save for a few stubborn individuals. He glares at the top of Donghyuck’s head peeking out behind a corner; he’ll chew him out later.

Mr. Park sends a burst of flame roaring down the stairs. Before Renjun can blink, Chat Noir flips himself up onto a ledge, knocking a hanging plant off its chains and down onto Mr. Park’s head. “Sorry, but this snack is off the market!”

Holding back his tongue at his partner’s terrible one-liners, Renjun swings his yo-yo around a second-floor railing, using the momentum to launch himself forward and kick akumatized Mr. Park in the head. He allows himself a millisecond of guilt (Park’s not a bad guy, just passionate) before nimbly hopping out of the way of another stream of fire.

As he swings back, he aims a kick at the flamethrower, but Mr. Park moves it just out of reach. Renjun grits his teeth, landing with his feet planted against the wall and slackening the yo-yo string so he doesn’t go sailing back. The shock reverberates through his body, legs shaking from the impact.

Mr. Park returns his glare, before his eyes flick almost imperceptibly to the side. Renjun follows the path of his vision, heart jumping into overdrive as he realizes where Mr. Park intends to shoot his next fireblast.

His body’s already moving before his brain can even process it. “Chat Noir!”

Renjun launches himself toward the ledge where Chat Noir’s trying to drop more potted plants onto Mr. Park’s head. He grabs Chat Noir by the waist, catapulting them onto the scaffolded rooftop just out of reach of the tongues of flame. His feet skid on the tiles, bringing them to an abrupt stop.

“Oh my god,” Renjun exhales, shifting Chat Noir’s body around in his arms so that he’s bridal-carrying him. “That was close.”

“Glad to see you could make it. Did you accidentally spend too long picking out your outfit?” asks Chat Noir breezily, as if he weren’t almost burnt to a crisp seconds ago.

Renjun scowls at him. “Don’t think I won’t drop you.”

“Wait, no!” Chat Noir flings his arms around Renjun’s neck. “Your fashion sense is impeccable, dear Ladybug. Vogue-worthy.”

“Haha, very funny.” Renjun’s still carrying him, bridal-style; somehow his arms haven’t gotten tired yet. Mr. Park rages down below, trying to catch them with the edges of his fire. Renjun narrows his eyes at the flamethrower. His Ladybug senses have yet to kick in, but he doesn’t need superpowers to know that Mr. Park’s flamethrower isn’t your ordinary weapon. “Please don’t tell me the akuma is in the flamethrower.”

Chat Noir grins. “I’d never want to disappoint you, but the akuma is in the flamethrower.”

This time, Renjun doesn’t suppress his groan. Papillon, their arch-nemesis, never makes things easy for him. Of course he has to use the stupid little magic butterflies he calls ‘akumas’ to possess people, and of course he has to forge the connection through the most dangerous objects possible. “And what is the akuma victim calling himself this time?”

On cue, Mr. Park roars, “Searsucker will destroy all cheaters and take your Miraculous, too!”

“Some students cheated on one of his tests,” Chat Noir tells him before he can ask. “Don’t know why he had a random flamethrower lying around, though. I feel like someone should bring that up to administration.”

School administration sucks here, but Renjun resists saying it out loud. That’s not what’s important right now.

He sets Chat Noir down, ignoring his grumbles of “you’re so rough, at least warn me first.” Renjun readies his yo-yo; after a year of being partners, Chat Noir should know what he’s about to do.

“Lucky charm!” cries Renjun, flinging his yo-yo into the air.

🐞🐱

“Bye, bye, pretty butterfly.” Renjun waves the purified akuma off into the air, watching it flap its glowing white wings as it flies away.

With a toss of the Lucky Charm object into the air and a “Miraculous Ladybug!”, the damage is reset, scorch marks disappearing in a wave of little, glowing ladybugs. Renjun dusts his hands off for emphasis. Just another day’s work.

From there, it’s a mad dash down the hallway, looking for somewhere to hide. After using Lucky Charm, he only has five minutes before he de-transforms. Finding an empty classroom, he throws himself behind the teacher’s desk as the beeping of his earrings crescendos and his Miraculous finally deactivates. Drained, he watches the red jumpsuit recede in a wave of light, leaving his graphic tee and ratty jeans behind.

He’s just in time. Students creep out of their hiding places, timid yet curious like mice—a cat’s favorite snack. They stop at the edge of the second floor, clinging to the railing, daring not to go further. All eyes are on Mr. Park, crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell.

The hush that falls is broken by the sound of footsteps. Mr. Do flies down the stairs, running to Mr. Park and checking him over for injuries. When he finds none, the slap of his hand against Mr. Park’s shoulder echoes throughout the building. “Don’t worry me like that, idiot.”

The student body heaves a collective sigh of relief. The bell rings, and people start heading to their classes like normal. This isn’t the first time their school’s been attacked by an akuma, after all. Renjun tries not to dwell on how sad it is that they’ve all become accustomed to routine violence.

He has another priority, though. He pushes against the flow of the rushing river of students, standing on his tiptoes to scan above the crowd. He spots Jeno walking into a classroom. Jaemin, frazzled but otherwise unharmed, follows him in.

In his frantic search for Donghyuck, he ends up running straight into him. “Renjun!” cries Donghyuck, unfazed by their near-collision. His eyes are shining. “I totally just saw Ladybug head this way! Did you see him?”

“No,” lies Renjun. “I think he left already.”

“Aw, I missed him again.” Donghyuck pouts, clicking his phone off. Renjun spots the open camera app before the screen goes dark. “I wanted another interview for the Ladyblog.”

“Don’t you have class?” asks Renjun, incredulous. Donghyuck’s lack of self-preservation instinct never ceases to astound him. “Where were you during the attack, anyways?”

Donghyuck’s starstruck expression slips off his face; he lowers his eyes, smiling sheepishly.

Renjun crosses his arms. “Lee Donghyuck.”

“I was safe, I promise!” he insists, holding up his hands to protect himself from Renjun’s impending punch to the arm. “Chat Noir tucked me away in a nook at the very beginning.”

Renjun bites his bottom lip. Donghyuck clearly left his hiding spot and risked his life, and for what? A few minutes of grainy footage of Ladybug and Chat Noir fighting off a science teacher with arsonous tendencies? An angry lecture on the importance of safety sits on the tip of his tongue, but the fatigue from the fight is setting into his muscles, and at least Donghyuck is unharmed. Renjun punches him anyways. “Idiot.”

“You pronounced ‘passionate genius’ wrong,” says Donghyuck, dancing away from another punch. “Hey!”

Renjun shoves aside the rest of his complaints, throwing his arms around him in a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he mumbles into Donghyuck’s ear, “but next time, be less stupid, okay?”

“No promises,” declares Donghyuck, and Renjun can’t resist one last stomp on his foot. “Ow! Stop bullying me!”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” bites out Renjun, letting go of him.

“Okay, Mr. Control Freak,” says Donghyuck, “but don’t you have a class to go to?” He wiggles his eyebrows disgustingly. “With the boy who sits next to you, who, oh, how’d you describe it, has the cutest smile you’ve ever seen—”

Renjun shoots him a dirty look. “Keep talking and you’ll wish Searsucker had gotten you.”

Donghyuck just grins.

**Episode 2: Metalchef**

Renjun rushes into the bakery, yelling out a quick “hello!” to his dad before running upstairs to his bedroom and collapsing into his desk chair in front of his laptop. He clicks on the first link in his saved websites—the Ladyblog.

Donghyuck is fast, he has to give him that. The video from today has already been uploaded, with a little caption at the bottom. _No interview today, sorry! Ladybug was in a hurry and I couldn’t catch him before I had to go back to class T_T_

Renjun’s still surprised Donghyuck’s website gets so much traffic. The graphic design is horrendous, reds and blacks clashing with 20 different fonts, not to mention the slogan up top. _The Ladyblog — the #1 spot for news and updates on Seoul’s top superhero! Shining a spotlight on Ladybug!_

Donghyuck thinks he’s so clever sometimes. If “spot” and spotlight” were the best Ladybug puns he could come up with, he could stand to take a few lessons from Chat Noir. Not that Renjun would ever tell his partner that. He doesn’t want to encourage him any more than Chat Noir already encourages himself.

Renjun clicks play on the video, full-screening it as the sounds of Donghyuck’s heavy breathing come streaming through his speakers, followed by the muffled noises of flame and kitty screeches.

Donghyuck’s videos are a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s nice to have a video recap so he can watch his own moves and take note of where he can improve. On the other, it’s really weird to hear one of your friends gush about how hot you are in your very tight, _very_ form-fitting jumpsuit. Especially when he doesn’t know that he’s gushing about _you_ specifically.

Donghyuck doesn’t know that Renjun is Ladybug. No one knows, or at least no one should know, except Chenle, and Chenle, as his kwami, is what turns him into Ladybug. It gets lonely sometimes, not being able to share with anyone. It’s for the safety of both himself and his loved ones, but still.

Renjun hits pause on the video and shuts his laptop.

🐞🐱

“I wanna die,” mumbles Renjun in lieu of a normal greeting, sliding into his seat in first hour Chemistry. Mr. Park looks quite refreshed from his stint as an akuma victim last week. Renjun, unfortunately, cannot say the same.

“Good morning to you too,” Jeno snorts lightly, guiding Renjun’s head to rest on his shoulder. Renjun slumps on him gratefully. “Rough weekend?”

“Early morning baking,” says Renjun, and Jeno hums in understanding. “Dad spent the entire weekend doing this super elaborate wedding cake order, so we had to play catch up today.”

He doesn’t mention what else has been keeping him up—patrolling, helping kids get their cats out of trees and the like. He swears Seoul cut down their police force once Ladybug and Chat Noir showed up. Maybe he judges them a little for relying on two teenage vigilantes to protect all of one of the world’s biggest metropolises.

“Sounds rough,” comes Jaemin’s voice from behind him, and Renjun’s heart stutters abruptly in his chest. He should really get that under control. “Coffee candy?”

“God, yes please.”

Renjun doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating it when Jaemin’s hand seems to linger against his for slightly longer than normal as he’s passing the candy over, fingertips trailing heat over the skin of his palm like a brand. “Thanks, Jaemin. You’re a life saver.”

Jaemin smiles beatifically. Renjun tries not to stare for too long.

It’s a hot minute before the pain of Jeno’s elbow hitting his side finally registers. Renjun jolts out of his daze to whip a glare at him. _You were staring,_ mouths Jeno.

Renjun screws his eyes shut and leans back onto Jeno’s shoulder. “Leave me alone, I’m tired,” he whispers back.

Mr. Park starts talking about flame colors (which Renjun finds hilarious, for obvious reasons), and Renjun only feels a little bad for tuning out almost immediately. When his attempts at napping fail miserably (Mr. Park is just too loud, no matter the circumstances), he cracks an eye open and peeks at Jeno not-so-subtly using his phone in his lap.

Renjun snorts. “Chat Noir?”

Jeno clicks his phone off, the fansite page on his screen quickly going black. “They’re good pictures,” he says, clearing his throat.

“And you just appreciate good photography.”

Jeno huffs. “Stop making fun of me. I don’t see you teasing Future-Mr. Ladybug over there,” he says, tossing his head in Jaemin’s direction, “for his giant crush.”

Jaemin, who’d been zoning out during the lecture, suddenly snaps to attention. His left hand falls away from where he’d been fiddling with the ring on his right. “Huh? What about Ladybug?”

Renjun and Jeno share stifled giggles. When Jeno starts to get a little too loud (Renjun can see Mr. Park’s eyes flitting to them from the other side of the room), Renjun pinches his side. “So you’re admitting your ‘admiration’ for Chat is on par with Jaemin’s Ladybug fanboying?”

Not that there’s anything wrong with Jaemin being a Ladybug fanboy. It’s great, actually, for obvious reasons, but sometimes Renjun finds himself wishing Jaemin was a Renjun fanboy too.

Jeno’s laugh cuts off into an immediate whine. “I didn’t say that,” he protests.

“Mr. Lee, Mr. Huang!” Renjun’s head whips around to see Mr. Park paused at the front of the room, tapping his chalk against the blackboard. His face is arranged into something stern, but there’s an amused glint in his eyes that’s impossible to miss. “Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

“Actually, yes—” starts Renjun, smiling mischievously, but Jeno slaps a hand over his mouth before he can finish.

“No, we’re good!” says Jeno. Renjun licks his hand. “Oh, gross, Renjun!”

🐞🐱

The screaming starts when Renjun’s changing out of his gym uniform in the locker rooms.

He slams his locker shut and sprints to the restroom, silently grateful that he’d been forced to stay behind and clean up while everyone else had gone in to change first. For once, Mr. Kim’s obvious dislike for him comes in handy.

“Didn’t an attack just happen a few days ago?” asks Chenle, zooming out of his pocket as soon as Renjun’s safely locked himself inside a stall. “Why is there another akuma already?”

“Beats me; I’m exhausted.” Renjun allows himself two seconds to slump against the stall door before a shriek from outside sends a wave of anxiety up his spine. “Fuck Papillon.”

Chenle nods. “Fuck Papillon indeed.”

“Chenle, spots on!”

🐞🐱

Renjun sprints through the hallways, skidding around a corner and yelling at students to get out of the way as a tiny girl with a masterchef-themed costume flings tureens of soup at him. Like, literal tureens of soup, ceramic and all. Renjun bats them away from him with his yoyo and suppresses a flinch when they shatter upon hitting the ground.

Two akuma attacks, both in the same week. Both at his school. Renjun’s worried that Papillon’s started to hone in on his location and concentrate his attacks in this area of Seoul. He can only hope Chat Noir doesn’t go to the same school.

He doesn’t have time to think about that right now, though. He dodges another onslaught of soup and wrinkles his nose when droplets of it land on his arm. The smell of rotten tomato is not a pleasant one.

Apparently the akuma victim had failed her home economics test, she roars at him while jabbing out a pair of tongs to try and grab his Miraculous. Renjun yanks the tongs out of her hand and breaks them swiftly on his knee, but no akuma comes out. He curses softly. _Not the right one._

The sound of metal sliding against metal rings in his ears. Renjun looks up just in time to spin out of the way of a knife flying straight at his face, the akuma victim hissing in displeasure when her projectile misses its mark. It lodges itself into the wall behind him with a _thud._

Girl Ramsey’s—that’s what he’s nicknaming her, for now—stainless steel arsenal seems to only grow as she stalks toward him, colander in one hand and whisk in the other. Renjun scans her weaponry, looking for any object with a hint of purple that might suggest it contains the akuma, but everything glistens with a silver metal sheen. Everything, that is, except a little scrap of paper tucked into Girl Ramsey’s apron that pulses with magenta fury.

Renjun groans. Of course.

Last time, surrounded by students and faculty, was no good. Renjun tries to draw her outside the school bounds, mentally running through deserted places in the vicinity where he can fight her without worrying about casualties. There’s an abandoned warehouse a few blocks away—Renjun makes a split-second decision, not sparing a beat to wonder if Chat Noir will be able to find them. He doesn’t have time to, shooting his yo-yo like a grappling hook to swing himself up and out of the way of a spatula that Girl Ramsey flings at him. “Catch me if you can,” he calls out, sprinting out the school entrance.

Girl Ramsey lets out a roar. “No one escapes Metalchef!”

Ah, so that was her name. Renjun checks over his shoulder to make sure she’s still following him, jumping onto buildings and yelling at civilians to get out of the way. Pity, he liked Girl Ramsey better.

Metalchef doesn’t have any flying capabilities, so Renjun gets down lower to make sure she can still see him. The abandoned warehouse’s location is fresh in his mind—he and Chat Noir had fought someone there a few months ago. He stops just shy of landing on top of the roof, hiding on a ledge of the building adjacent. Metalchef, searching for him, runs straight in.

He hones in on the purple scrap of paper that Metalchef has. He’d bet anything it was her failed report. If he can just grab it with his yo-yo, he can rip it up, purify the akuma, and return Seoul to normal. Problem solved.

Renjun and Metalchef chase each other around, but surprisingly Metalchef doesn’t seem like she’s putting up a real fight. He doesn’t know if it’s because Papillon didn’t equip her with as strong of powers as he usually does, or if this one just happens to be more playful, but the aggression Metalchef displayed while they were back on campus seems to have dissipated the moment she entered the warehouse. It only takes a few minutes for Renjun to snag the report from her waistband. Metalchef doesn’t even protest.

Renjun’s blood spikes. There’s no way it should’ve been that easy, especially without Chat Noir.

He rips up the report into tiny shreds, eyes trained not on his own fingers but on Metalchef’s face. Her vicious scowl from before is nowhere to be found, replaced by an unsettling lack of expression. She doesn’t make a single move to stop him from wrecking the akumatized object.

Renjun balks. He didn’t even need to use Lucky Charm this time. With the shreds of paper in his hand and a purple butterfly fluttering around his head, needing to be purified, he has no idea what to do. He usually just hurls the Lucky Charm object in the air to make everything go back to normal, but there is no Lucky Charm object this time.

Before he can try something, Metalchef collapses, akuma costume dissolving as she turns back into a normal high school student. Renjun lunges forward to catch her before she hits the ground, too distracted to notice the akuma flying away.

“What happened?” she croaks, rubbing her eyes. Renjun spares her a brief glance for signs of injury before scanning the warehouse. The damage is still evident, slash marks against pillars and some walls caved in. Miraculous Ladybug didn’t fix everything this time.

 _What happened, indeed._ The back of Renjun’s neck prickles. This isn’t standard procedure.

Something’s not right.

The hiss the girl lets out as Renjun helps her stand, ankle crumpling, only serves to further unsettle him. Everything should’ve gone back to normal. So why didn’t it?

Jaemin intercepts them right before they make it out onto the main street, huffing like he’d just run a marathon. “I’m so sorry!” he half-shouts, out of breath. “I couldn’t make it, I got held up—”

“Jae— excuse me?” Renjun stops abruptly, almost making the girl stumble. “Shit, sorry.”

Renjun’s mind spins, head too muddled with what had just happened with Metalchef to process the image in front of him: Jaemin, sneakers untied, face red, looking like he’d just sprinted here all the way from school. He squints. “Can I help you?”

“I—” Jaemin stops, face blanking. He gives himself a quick once-over before his expression freezes into his ‘I fucked up’ smile, one of the classic smiles that Renjun’s catalogued in his ‘Jaemin Expressions’ data bank. “Ladybug! I was just, uh. Wondering if you needed any help.”

Renjun’s already on edge—the fact that Jaemin’s smiling like _that_ specifically doesn’t escape him. _What is he doing here?_ “I think I’m good, thanks,” he says, trying not to let suspicion bleed into his tone. “Unless you want to help me take her,” he gestures to the girl, “back to your school.”

Jaemin’s face brightens. “Sure, yeah!”

As they walk back, Jaemin stutters his way through conversation, blushing like Renjun’s never seen him before. Renjun tries not to find it absolutely adorable, but it does help alleviate some of his concerns. He can chalk up Jaemin’s mad dash up to extreme Ladybug fanboy behavior—right?

**Episode 3: Nightmare**

Renjun face plants onto the couch as soon as he gets home.

“Long day?” asks his dad, amusement bleeding out of his voice. Renjun groans.

“Yeah, it was rough,” he says. It feels like he’s lifting concrete blocks when he pushes himself up to look at his dad. He rubs his eyes, blinking when he sees the outfit his dad is in. “Where are you going?”

His dad fidgets with the cuffs of his dress shirt, the one Renjun had ironed for him yesterday without really thinking why he’d asked. “Out on a date,” he says, face splitting into a grin.

“Dad!” Renjun makes a wailing sound in the back of his throat, half-pleased and half-offended. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you started dating again!”

“Well, I didn’t mean for it to happen,” says his dad. “You know it’s been hard for me after… after your mom died.”

Renjun can only manage a nod.

His dad plows on, face lightening into something determined. “But then this guy started coming into the bakery every day while you were at school, and we started talking, and we really hit it off! At least I think so.”

“Dad.” Renjun rolls his eyes. “Who asked who?”

“Huh?”

“On the date?”

“Oh!” His dad’s face splits into a grin. “He did! I wasn’t expecting it, but it was really sweet. He brought me roses and everything. And made a really bad baking-related pun, but I liked it.”

Renjun fake gags. _Old people romance._ “Then I’m sure he likes you at least as much as you like him,” he says in all seriousness, peeling himself off the couch. He pats his dad on the shoulder. “Go get ‘im.”

“Alright, alright,” laughs his dad. “That eager to get rid of me, huh?”

“Of course not!” Renjun gasps, offended. “I just want you to be happy! Also, what’s the guy’s name?”

“Byun Baekhyun. Why?”

“So I can fuck up his shit if he hurts you,” Renjun says plainly.

He whines when his dad flicks his forehead, rubbing the spot. “Language,” his dad scolds, before hugging him. “I’ll be going now, then. Don’t burn the house down.”

“Bye!” calls Renjun, waving him out the door. “Have fun on your date!”

🐞🐱

It wasn’t actually that long of a day, if Renjun’s being honest. Perks of an akuma attack: school lets out early.

Renjun’s acting supervisor of the bakery while his dad is out, he tells himself, as if he actually has any employees. The truth is they’ve been managing well enough on their own for as long as Renjun can remember. His dad’s friends come in to help during the busier seasons, but for the most part, it’s just been his dad. Renjun helps when he can, mostly working after school, but he’s not above ditching his shift to stop an akuma attack. Customers come and go, but he imagines it’s lonely for his dad, working solo most of the time.

He’s glad his dad’s met someone who keeps him company, at the very least. That’s why he’d waved off his dad’s initial plans to close early; he doesn’t want him to feel bad about losing revenue to satisfy basic companionship needs. So today, he’s pushing past his exhaustion and working.

He doesn’t really have to do much, anyways. His dad does all the hard work of baking and setting up displays in the morning. All he has to do is sit at the register and ring purchases up.

Customers wander in and out, lured in by the smell and convinced into buying a pastry or two. Renjun almost doesn’t realize it when someone he actually knows walks in, jumping in his seat when Jaemin’s face appears a foot away from his.

“Hey,” says Renjun, shoving down his earlier suspicions to smile brightly. Normally, his heart would be working overtime from being so near to his crush. It’s still beating faster, but for a different reason today. “What brings you in?”

“Craving something sweet,” says Jaemin, winking at him. Renjun tries not to flush. “Any recommendations?”

“My favorite is the strawberry cake,” says Renjun, relaxing and pointing to the display case with the cakes. “I can sell you a slice right now, but if you want a whole cake you’re gonna have to put in an order.”

“Ah, I don’t really like strawberries that much,” says Jaemin.

“What is wrong with you,” deadpans Renjun. “We’ve been friends for how long and only now do I find out that you have an irrational hate for the best fruit?”

“Hey!” Jaemin crosses his arms, mock-offended. “It’s personal taste, okay! Do I make fun of you for the time you puked because you were too scared to tell Hyuck’s mom that you can’t eat okra?”

“We don’t mention that,” says Renjun. “If you’re going to bully me like this, at least buy something.”

“Alright then.” Jaemin peers into the display case, pressing his hands to the glass like a little kid. Renjun tries and fails to not find it cute. “The guava pastry looks good.”

“It is,” Renjun tells him.

“You think everything your dad makes is good, though,” teases Jaemin.

“That’s because it is!” declares Renjun, indignant. “You have the nerve to come into my own home and insinuate—”

“Kidding, kidding,” says Jaemin, grinning. Renjun melts a little. “I’ll get a guava pastry.”

When Jaemin leaves with a wave after Renjun sells him the pastry, Renjun only manages to wipe the dreamy smile off his face after he realizes he was supposed to be suspicious of Jaemin.

🐞🐱

Renjun drags himself up to his room after closing the bakery for the day, opening up his messenger app as he sprawls out on his bed. He squints at the screen. Huh. Jeno’s normally active at this time, but the green dot by his name is surprisingly absent.

Renjun thinks of calling him, but eventually decides against it. A nap sounds like a better idea right now. He sends a Ladybug meme to Donghyuck, because he’s the only one who really appreciates them, before setting his phone on the nightstand and drifting off into an easy sleep.

🐞🐱

He wakes to a stinging pain on his face and a shrill voice screaming in his ear.

“Wake the fuck up!” Chenle screeches, barely escaping getting hit as Renjun brings a hand up to cradle his ear. “Oh thank god, you’re finally awake.”

“Did you bite me?” asks Renjun, incredulous. He pokes at his cheeks, finger tracing the new little divots.

“You weren’t waking up,” complains his kwami. “What was I supposed to do?”

“I was tired,” Renjun snaps. “What do you want from me?”

He looks out the window, surprised at the color—or lack of—in the sky. He’d gone to sleep while the sun was still at its zenith. It’s pitch black outside now. “Oh, huh. Did I really sleep for that long? Is my dad back yet?”

“No,” says Chenle, and Renjun’s blood freezes at the gravity in his tone. He’s never seen Chenle this serious.

“What’s going on?”

Chenle stares him dead in the eye. “You’re not gonna like it.”

🐞🐱

The clock on his nightstand reads _4:23 p.m._ By all means, it should still be light outside. But it’s not.

Renjun doesn’t waste time transforming, the familiar feeling of red spandex serving as his anchor. He launches himself out his bedroom window the second he’s covered head to toe and not a moment after.

He swings from rooftop to rooftop, instinctively knowing where to land despite the utter blackness. Even the streetlights are off. Seoul’s been plunged into darkness.

Renjun’s mind strays to his dad, on his first date in forever. If something happened to his dad, he’d—

 _Focus on the mission._ If Seoul is safe, his dad will be safe. Renjun won’t let anything happen.

It’s not long before the blackness gives way to a soft, pulsing purple. The light stretches across the city skyline, faint yet easily detectable. As soon as he catches sight of it, Renjun changes course. His communicator beeps.

“Hello?”

“Ladybug, thank god,” comes Chat Noir’s voice, crackling over the phone. “Where are you right now?”

“Following the purple,” says Renjun. “What’s going on?”

Chat Noir’s voice is grave, sending a chill down Renjun’s spine. “Come to Lotte World Tower. You have to see this for yourself.”

As he approaches, the purple light becomes easier to follow. It’s concentrated at one point—Lotte World Tower, if what Chat Noir says is to be believed. And it is. Renjun trusts his partner with his life.

He spots Chat Noir, illuminated by lavender, and drops down next to him. At the base of the tower, there’s a purple bubble, rippling with power that comes off in waves. The bubble is opaque. “What the hell is that?”

“No idea,” says Chat Noir. “It just… appeared. And then all the lights went out. I tried hitting it but nothing happened, so I’ve just been watching it for an hour now. And waiting for you to transform so I could tell you to get over here.”

Renjun bites back a curse. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” says Chat Noir, cracking a smile. Somehow it makes Renjun feel more at ease, like not everything can be wrong if Chat Noir is still smiling like normal. “I wasn’t feeling too blue without you. Just a little purple. Did you know purple roses mean enchantment and love at first sight?”

“Not the time, Chat,” says Renjun, smacking him on the shoulder lightly, but secretly he’s grateful for it. “Did you try Cataclysm?”

Chat Noir shakes his head. “I didn’t wanna try anything without you, especially not as risky as Cataclysm. I don’t know what’s going on, but if this drags on…”

He’s right. Even if Cataclysm could dissolve the bubble, they can’t afford to have Chat Noir’s miraculous run out of juice this early on. “Good thinking,” says Renjun.

His attention’s suddenly drawn away; he catches the bubble’s movement out of the corner of his eye. The frequency of the waves accelerates suddenly, vibrating at a speed so fast they can hear it.

“What…”

Shaking off Chat Noir’s grip around his wrist, Renjun steps closer, uneasy. The bubble makes a loud whining sound, like metal gears grinding against each other, glowing bright before it bursts with a _pop!_

When he sees who—or what—stands in the remains, Renjun feels like the wind’s been knocked out of his chest. “Jeno?”

He’d recognize that build, that face anywhere. But the person who rises from his curled up position, limbs crackling like something straight out of Dante’s Inferno, expression twisting familiar features into unrecognizable cold—this isn’t Jeno.

“I am Nightmare,” says the akuma victim, and lunges.

🐞🐱

Renjun’s eyes can barely register the form leaping at him, hands poised for his throat—his feet are rooted to the ground. Terror crawls up his throat, slathered in an overwhelming sense of guilt. He should’ve called. _He should’ve called._

“Ladybug!” A split second later, and he’s on the ground, flattened with someone else’s body weight on him. He shivers. He could feel Je— _Nightmare_ barely missing him. Two seconds later, and— “What are you doing?”

With Chat Noir completely on top of him, he’d expect him to laugh or maybe blush, even make a joke, at how compromising their position is right now. What he doesn’t expect is the pure _fear_ swimming in Chat Noir’s eyes. Renjun’s stomach drops.

Any hope of reassurance that it’s not a big deal, Jeno hasn’t been akumatized, it’ll be just like what they’re used to goes flying out the window.

The last bit of light dies. Renjun can barely see anything.

Renjun senses movement from the side, and rolls them over quick as a flash. They narrowly avoid Nightmare’s swipe. Renjun kicks out at Nightmare, hoping to trip him, but he’s too slow, or Nightmare is just too fast. It’s all he can do to scramble up onto his feet and pull Chat Noir up onto the nearest rooftop.

Renjun claps a hand over Chat Noir’s mouth when he tries to make a sound of protest, realizing that Nightmare’s already lost interest in them for now. Belatedly, he notices a police officer creeping up behind Nightmare. He barely catches the exact moment Nightmare realizes the officer’s there, but it’s drawn-out torture watching Nightmare simply brush his hand against the his cheek. Jeno is gentle to the end. Renjun’s chest aches.

When the officer crumples to the ground, curling up in a ball before writhing and screaming, Renjun figures out what exactly it is they need to be scared of. Nightmare’s right hand glows faintly, but it’s enough.

“Don’t let him touch you with his hand,” he warns. “Or else…”

“You’ll be locked in a nightmare,” Chat Noir finishes.

With one glance, the electricity of an unbreakable bond passing between them in an instant, they’re on the same wavelength. Chat Noir vaults himself off the building with his staff. Renjun swings himself over to flank Nightmare on the other side, using his glowing hands as his beacon in the sea of darkness.

A quick scan reveals no insecurities—Renjun can’t even figure out what the akumatized object is supposed to be. He hopes to God everyone cleared out after the lights went out. As Chat Noir distracts Nightmare, Renjun helps the other police officers load the nightmare-touched officer into the car before it goes squealing off into the night.

When Renjun turns his attention back to the fight, Chat Noir’s breaths audible in the silence, it’s just them and Nightmare. Nightmare’s complete silence is unsettling in the darkness.

They’re alone.

“I can’t figure out what object we’re looking for,” Chat Noir yells over, every word punctuated by a grunt as he dodges Nightmare’s relentless swipes. “Is there even—”

“Don’t say that,” Renjun demands. “There has to be one.”

Nightmare’s attention flicks away from Chat Noir and towards him. His posture goes rigid. Chat Noir skids to a halt meters away, so that the three of them are in a line.

Renjun drops into a stance, looking for weaknesses. There has to be something, there has to be.

Nightmare pulls his hands in towards his chest before thrusting them out at both sides, a flash of something purple shooting out of his palms. Renjun leaps aside before it can hit him, but the bolt doesn’t leave a single imprint on the wall behind him. It just dissipates, fading away with a soft hiss like steam.

“What was that?” asks Chat Noir, voice pitched.

“I don’t know,” Renjun says, “but even if it doesn’t look dangerous, don’t let it touch you.”

Chat Noir laughs, but it’s mirthless. “Everything looks dangerous now.”

Renjun can’t find it in himself to disagree. Everything about Nightmare’s existence puts him on edge; the timing, the circumstances, the _person_ —all of it sets his nerves on fire.

It’s not even the absence of a smile on Jeno’s face, it’s the utter lack of warmth in his eyes that gets Renjun. Nightmare’s expression, barely illuminated, is haunted. Jeno would never look so cold. Just looking at him feels so wrong, like jagged magazine clippings thrown together in some supposition of art—pure madness.

And maybe it’s a comfort to know that it isn’t really Jeno. Just one of Papillon’s akumas borrowing (as much as the thought hurts) Jeno’s body. And once he defeats this parasite, he can purify the akuma and everything will return to normal again. As it should be.

Renjun lets out a steady breath and steels himself. It’s go time.

With a look from Chat Noir, he’s off, catapulting himself on top of one of the dead streetlights and surveying the ground from above. Chat Noir charges straight at Nightmare, bold with night vision Renjun wishes he had. Renjun shoots out his yo-yo at Nightmare and tries not to be surprised when Nightmare bats it away with a mere touch. When he reels it back in, it sparks angrily, corroded where it must have come into contact.

Renjun gulps. That’s never happened before.

He’s learning that there’s no use relying on experience anymore, though; not when Papillon seems to be pulling out all the stops to trip him up. At this point, all he has is instinct.

And, he’s reminded as Chat Noir takes advantage of the momentary distraction to strike Nightmare’s back with his staff, a partner.

He’s out of options, though. With no akumatized object in sight and a villain stronger than anything they’ve ever faced before, this fight will drag on forever if he doesn’t do anything to stop it.

“Lucky charm!” cries Renjun, tossing up his yo-yo into the air.

What comes back down to him from the heavens lands into his arms with so much weight he topples off from his precarious position on the streetlight, cradling the lucky object in his arms as he lands on a nearby rooftop only a short distance down. Renjun checks it over for damages. “A stage light?”

It’s a huge one at that, so big he can barely carry it. Renjun grapples with it in his arms. His miraculous senses take over as his eyes latch onto a nook to position the light in. He doesn’t know what this is supposed to do, but he’ll figure it out eventually. Hopefully.

He secures it, rigs a crude mechanism to turn it on from below, and drops down to the ground. Chat Noir is still sparring with Nightmare, and Renjun can see his muscles quiver with exhaustion. Either Jeno’s kickboxing lessons have really been doing something, or Chat Noir has just had as shitty of a day as Renjun has.

Either way, it’s time to end this.

Renjun pulls Chat Noir into an alley, ducking out of Nightmare’s sight. “I’ve got a stage light rigged up,” he whispers, voice coming out louder than he’d like. Or maybe it’s just the blood rushing in his ears. “From the Lucky Charm. I don’t know what it’s supposed to do, but I think we have to hit him with that.”

“Light?” asks Chat Noir, verging on incredulous. “I think his powers involve killing all the lights. How do we know this one isn’t just already dead?”

Renjun bites down on his bottom lip. “We just have to trust my miraculous.”

Chat Noir’s eyes narrow. “I’ll distract him.”

He sprints back out, Renjun not far behind. With a yell, Chat Noir launches himself towards Nightmare, coming down hard with his staff. Nightmare takes the full brunt of the hit, not making a noise even as metal hits skin. Renjun hears a crack that he doesn’t particularly like the sound of.

Meanwhile, Renjun scouts for the light pole that he aimed the stage light towards, skidding into a crouch right behind it. He waits for the right moment.

And there it is—Chat Noir slams his staff into Nightmare’s side, and Nightmare stumbles. Renjun snags him with his yo-yo, trapping his body against the light pole and wrapping the yo-yo string snug around him.

Nightmare’s face retains its blankness, unfazed. He touches a finger to the cord, and Renjun watches, with no small sense of horror, as his invincible yo-yo string starts to decay.

“Chat, the light!” he calls, words spilling out of his mouth, heart jumping. “Hurry!”

“Got it!”

Renjun shuts his eyes against the sudden flood of light, rolling out of the path of the beam. It’s blindingly brilliant. Darkness gives way to brightness, the area suddenly awash in color again.

He jumps when Nightmare starts screaming.

Horrible, demonic cries slip out of his mouth as he writhes against the yo-yo string keeping him secured to the pole. The hand that had been glowing earlier lies slack, no longer touching the cord.

“What the fuck,” Renjun lets slip.

“Is— is that supposed to happen?”

They watch as Nightmare screams like he’s being burned. Chat Noir nudges him. “Look.”

Slowly, the akuma costume recedes in a bubbling wave of purple; his black slippers give way to the familiar sneakers that Jeno wears every day. Renjun’s legs go weak in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

Waiting for Nightmare to de-akumatize is painfully slow. He’s used to it being… faster. But there was no akumatized object to destroy, so he has no idea what to do but wait.

Just as the light starts to creep up Jeno’s torso, moments away from being fully purified, Nightmare stops screaming and holds his palm up in Renjun’s direction. Renjun’s eyes widen. “What—”

The sudden light is excruciating. The bolt of purple lightning hurtling towards him is the last thing he sees before pain lances through his body and everything goes dark.

🐞🐱

_Wh-where is he—_

_It’s cold. Freezing. He can’t feel anything he can’t move anything he can’t—_

_It’s the sound of screeching metal, shattering glass, reverberating through his ears and bouncing around inside his head, hot and cold and pain and pain and pain and—_

_There’s yelling. It takes him a while to realize it’s from him. He’s yelling. Why is he yelling?_

_Get up. Push yourself up, with your hands. Yes, your hands. You still have them. Push up, carefully now— yes, that’s it. Get up and look, go see. What is it?_

_He sees, and then he wishes he hadn’t._

_Is it— is it his— it’s his— his_ mom—

**Episode 4: Omen**

There is light in his eyes and sweat streaming down his back when he wakes up, sitting up in a hurry before the pain hits and he has to lie down again.

It takes him a while before he can take stock of any other sensations besides the three. Light, sweat, pain. Waves of nausea coil in his head and climb down his throat.

“Renjun! How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he groans, focusing on the sound of Chenle’s voice. Slowly, he opens his eyes, vision clearing. Chenle’s familiar form greets him, eyes large and blinking with worry. He’s back in his t-shirt and jeans again. Didn’t even get to change back into pajamas. He’s in his bed, in his room.

“What happened? How did I get back?”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” says Chenle, carrying a water bottle with all the might he can muster up in his little body. “Drink some water. You’ve been out for a while.”

Renjun can barely twist open the cap, but then he’s gulping down water—”Not too fast! You’ll throw up!”—as if he spent forty days and forty nights in the desert. He certainly feels like it, _god._

“Want the good news or bad news first?” asks Chenle.

Renjun doesn’t think his head can handle bad news yet. “Good.”

“Your dad is safe,” says Chenle, and Renjun heaves a sigh of relief. Tension starts to leak out of his body. “I think he stayed at his date’s house for most of the attack because of the blackout? He kept calling you, he was really worried. He got home as soon as the lights came back on and saw you were sleeping.”

“Thank God,” says Renjun. “And Jeno?”

“In the hospital, but de-akumatized,” Chenle tells him, firmly. “Chat Noir took care of the rest.”

“Good. So what’s the bad news?”

“I think you should put down your water bottle for this,” says Chenle. Renjun caps it and sets it to the side. “I have bad news, and I have a theory that is also bad.”

“Lay it on me.”

“The bad news,” Chenle starts, “is that the akuma was never purified. Chat Noir couldn’t do it, and you were knocked out, so it just flew away.”

Renjun curses. “And the theory?”

“I think it’s the same akuma from before. With Metalchef. And it hadn’t been purified, so it had twice the amount of energy as normal. That’s why Nightmare was so strong.”

“Oh God.” Renjun stumbles out of bed, holding his hand to his head as he rummages through his closet for clean clothes. If the akuma wasn’t purified— Nightmare didn’t cause any physical damage to the city, but Metalchef did— and if he didn’t use Miraculous Ladybug, then everything didn’t go back to normal— which means Jeno— and the police officer he touched— “I have to go.”

“What? Where? Slow down, Renjun, you’re still not—”

“I have to go see Jeno.” Renjun almost trips down the stairs, jamming his feet into his sneakers and twisting open the front door knob with too much force on accident. “Chenle, what happened to that police officer?”

“I— I don’t know,” confesses Chenle. Renjun curses again. “Wait a minute, though, are you—”

Renjun tunes him out, checking his phone. The subways are down. He’s either gonna have to go by foot, or take his Vespa, or—

“Renjun, where are you going?”

Turning around sends another pulse of pain through Renjun’s head, but he forces it down and tries to appear normal. “I need to see Jeno,” he says, meeting his dad’s eyes.

His father’s face is grim. “I’ll drive you there.”

🐞🐱

It takes absolutely _forever_ for them to let Renjun in, because “the patient hasn’t set his visitation protocol yet” and “only family is allowed” and whatever other reasons they give him; Renjun filters them out and keeps arguing.

When the nurse finally opens the door for him, Renjun gestures angrily at the figure by the window. “Why is Chat Noir allowed inside, but I’m not?”

“He’s Chat Noir,” the nurse clips, walking briskly away. Fair enough.

Renjun shuts the door behind him, careful not to be too loud. “Did you bring him here?” he asks, sitting in the chair at Jeno’s bedside.

Chat Noir nods. “He’s okay. He woke up earlier to eat something and then went back to sleep.”

“Thank you.” Something about Chat Noir’s voice is familiar, now that he’s out of his own suit. He can’t quite pick up what exactly about it, but it’s comforting, in a way.

“Are you okay, Renjun?”

Renjun looks up. “How do you know my name?”

Chat Noir’s eyes widen imperceptibly before he breaks into a sheepish smile. Something about that expression is familiar too, but Renjun shoves the thought aside to listen to his explanation. “He showed me pictures of you while he was awake and asked me to check up on you and your other friends,” he laughs. “Something about how you’d probably go insane worrying about him.”

Renjun smiles, resting his hand over Jeno’s through the thin sheets. Selfless to the end. His heart clenches with guilt. “He pointed us all out by name?”

“He was very adamant about you being the small and cute one,” says Chat Noir, a twinkle in his eye. “After seeing you, I think I agree with him.”

Renjun breaks eye contact, narrowing his eyes at Jeno instead to hide his embarrassment. “You get a pass this time because you’re in the hospital,” he warns, pointing at a sleeping Jeno, “but I won’t be so forgiving next time if you call me small.”

Chat Noir’s laughter is bright. Renjun feels a little warm.

“He told you about Jaemin and Donghyuck, right?” he asks. “Could you check up on them, too? If they come to visit or… even if they don’t, I’ll just give you their addresses. Jaemin’s a horrible texter and I think my dad is putting me on house arrest after what happened yesterday.”

“Jaemin and Donghyuck?” asks Chat Noir, after a beat. “Yeah, I’ll check up on them for you.”

“Thank you.” Renjun gives Jeno’s hand one last squeeze, feeling like he’s leaving a part of himself as he moves to get up. “I should get going now. But… thank you. So much.”

“Of course,” says Chat Noir, dipping into a bow. Renjun rolls his eyes right before Chat Noir pops back up to salute him. “Get home safe, alright? It’s dangerous out there for cuties like you.”

This time, Renjun really can’t hide his eye roll. Chat Noir might be a little different when it comes to civilians, but some things just never change.

🐞🐱

“Guys,” says Donghyuck, the minute they walk into first period Chemistry on Monday. He slams his hands on the table. “You’ll never believe what happened.”

“You got abducted by aliens,” says Renjun.

“You won the lottery?” asks Jaemin.

“Your dog started talking,” says Jeno.

“Wrong, wrong, and wrong!” announces Donghyuck, mischievous glee on his face. “Guess who got a visit from the one and only Chat Noir?”

“Really now?” asks Jaemin, lips quirked up like he’s secretly laughing at a joke no one else is in on.

“Winning the lotto would’ve been better,” says Renjun.

“Yes, really,” says Donghyuck, ignoring Renjun’s comment. “He’s— gents, I know I’m a Ladybug fan, but Chat is _really_ hot. I mean, the leather? Totally working for me.”

Jaemin’s grin only grows wider. Renjun’s eyes are about to roll out of his head.

“Good,” he says instead, reveling in everyone’s eyes immediately darting to him. “I’m glad he checked up on you like I asked.”

“Like I asked?” asks Donghyuck, eyebrows raised. “When did you get so friendly with Chat?”

“I talked to him while I was visiting this one,” he pats Jeno’s shoulder, as if they’re not already linking arms, “in the hospital. Apparently he was so concerned about us that he asked Chat to make sure we weren’t going crazy with worry over him.”

Jeno looks nonplussed. “I did that?”

“You probably did and don’t remember it,” Jaemin smoothly slides in, looking less assured than before. Renjun’s eyes dart to his ring—he’s fiddling with it again. “Just like you to be concerned about us when you’re the one in the hospital.”

“Our little Jen-jen is so cute,” Renjun cooes. “Except when he’s calling me small to literal strangers.”

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” says Donghyuck.

“Shut the fuck up before I dislocate your knees.”

“Violent!” cries Donghyuck, simpering stupidly. “You can’t fool me, Injunnie, not after you specifically asked Chat Noir of all people to make sure I was okay. You care about us.”

“Look at you, inconveniencing the city superhero for little civilians like us,” teases Jeno. “Renjun’s got Chat wrapped around his little finger.”

“I’m sure he was happy to do it,” says Jaemin. Renjun squints; why is his face suddenly pinker than before? “Chat’s just nice like that.”

 _Ah._ “Are you a Chat Noir fanboy too now?” asks Renjun, grinning. “Can you really beat Jeno, though? He got saved by his idol. Once in a lifetime fan experience.”

“Aww, you’re gonna make me jealous, Jeno,” says Jaemin, pinching Jeno’s cheek. He pouts, bringing his hands up near his face to do the _buing-buing_ thing _._ “Can anyone resist this cuteness for long, though?”

Donghyuck and Jeno make twin retching noises. Renjun tries not to combust.

🐞🐱

Renjun stays glued to Jeno’s side all day, glaring at anyone who dares to look at him funny. He’s worried. Jeno makes small wincing noises every now and then, and Renjun’s caught him rubbing his lower back more than once. He hasn’t fully healed yet; it’s only because he’s an idiot and cares too much about his grades that he’s not still in the hospital.

And that’s what’s worrying Renjun, because by all means he should’ve been fully healed in an instant. But he wasn’t. And the akuma that had possessed him hasn’t been purified, and for all Renjun knows it’ll come back to akumatize someone else.

He can’t afford to not stay on guard, to not be hypervigilant. He needs to be ready for an attack, even if he doesn’t know when it’ll come—he just knows that it will.

And in the meantime, he needs to figure out what the hell is going on with Papillon.

🐞🐱

He hasn’t been able to sleep well since the incident. He knows Jeno hasn't either, because he can see the little green dot blinking next to his profile picture. _Active now,_ his phone tells him.

He’s been active around this time for the past few days, now. Renjun’s phone reads 4:01 a.m.

“Hey, Chenle,” Renjun whispers out into the darkness.

A tiny grumble, followed by little whining noises. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Is there a way to contact Chat Noir outside of the suit?”

The pile of clothes at the foot of his bed rustles. Chenle comes zooming out, rubbing at his eyes and settling next to Renjun’s head. “Do you mean, like, talking to him in person, but as civilians?”

“No,” Renjun says immediately. He can’t compromise his civilian identity, especially not at a time like this. “I just want to text him, or call him.”

“I see. And why can’t you guys just do that with your phones?”

“Uh, I don’t have his phone number?” Renjun says, slightly incredulous. “And I don’t want to give him mine? You know, the whole privacy thing? Keeping my identity secret?”

Chenle blinks. “Oh, yeah. You don’t know who he is.”

“Yes,” says Renjun, “that’s the point.”

Chenle shrugs his tiny shoulders. “Just use the Ladybug phone, then?”

“Out of costume? What Ladybug phone?”

“The Ladybug phone,” says Chenle, poking Renjun’s chest, “in your heart.”

Renjun just stares at him.

“Okay, cut the bullshit, please. I actually need to talk to him.”

Chenle cracks up. “Hey, let me take my small revenge for you waking me up at four in the morning. I don’t know how you’d use the Ladybug phone out of costume, but I can pass a message to Jisung.”

“Who the fuck is Jisung?”

“No one you need to worry about,” says Chenle, waving him off. “Just tell me what you need to tell Chat, and I’ll be sure it gets to him.”

“Uh, okay.” Chenle might be a brat, but Renjun trusts him. “Can you ask Chat to meet me at 2 a.m. tomorrow at Myeongdong Cathedral?”

“Will do,” says Chenle, saluting. “Now go back to sleep. I’m tired.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, you should be. Go sleep before I make you.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared.”

_Smack._

“Ow! What the hell!”

“Goodnight, Renjun.”

🐞🐱

“You rang?” asks Chat Noir, dropping down next to him.

Renjun sits in the steeple, looking out at the empty street below. Seoul never truly sleeps, but this is as close to dead as the night will get. “Yeah. We need to talk.”

“Oh, should I be scared?” Chat Noir settles down next to him, legs swinging in the air. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Shut up.” Renjun lands a solid hit in Chat Noir’s side with his elbow, pretending not to hear his choked laughter. “The akuma from Nightmare, it was never purified, was it?”

“No,” says Chat Noir, serious again. “I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Renjun is quick to reassure him, “but we have to keep an eye out for it. My kwami thinks it could be the same akuma from Metalchef, and it’s just accumulating power every time it possesses someone and I can’t purify it.”

“That’s not good.”

“No kidding.” Renjun leans back on his palms, his sleeplessness this past week finally catching up with him. He’s restless, and exhausted, and it makes for a bad combination. “Just be on guard and keep an eye out, will you? We need to be ready for the next attack.”

“Of course,” says Chat Noir. “And you?”

Renjun smiles grimly. “I’ll be busy trying to figure out what’s changed with this new akuma.”

🐞🐱

Just his luck—the one night he actually manages to fall asleep, and he’s awakened by the ringing of his cellphone.

He doesn’t dare ignore it, though. He only has five people on speed dial, and only one of them would be calling at this time.

“Hello?”

There’s nothing but heavy breathing on the other end, rising and falling in a panicked cadence. “Jeno?” asks Renjun, sitting up straight. “Jeno, breathe. C’mon, follow me.”

Renjun sits and breathes deep with Jeno for a few minutes, listening to him over the phone and feeling less like his blood is spiking when Jeno’s breathing starts to settle. “Hi, Renjun,” he manages. “Thank you for picking up.”

“Of course,” says Renjun. “What happened?”

“Had a nightmare,” says Jeno, “except this one was. I don’t know, it was so much worse than all the others.”

 _All the others?_ “How so?”

“It was so lucid,” says Jeno, after a few moments. “So real. I felt like I was watching things happen on a screen, like a movie or one of those VR headsets.”

Renjun bites his lip. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I… I think that would be good.”

While Renjun waits for Jeno to collect his thoughts, he gets up to grab his laptop from his desk and plugs a quick Google search into it: _how to help with nightmares._ He opens the first link and scans it quickly before Jeno starts talking.

“it was about me being akumatized. Being Nightmare.”

Renjun hums softly to let Jeno know he’s there, but doesn’t say anything.

“I was… everything was dark. I could see, but it was really dark. I remember fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir, and I remember— I remember hurting Ladybug.

“I remember being stripped of my powers, and the pain that came with it. Pain like nothing I’d felt before. I think might’ve been screaming in my sleep. I hope I didn’t wake up my parents. But yeah, everything went dark after that.”

“Must’ve been scary,” Renjun mumbles, almost lulled back to sleep by the soothing tone of Jeno’s voice. He closes his eyes. “You replayed everything that happened to you in real life in the dream?”

“Did that happen to me in real life? None of the memories I have of being Nightmare are as vivid as that dream was,” says Jeno. Renjun cracks an eye open.

“And then when I thought the dream was over, it started again. Except I don’t think I was Nightmare anymore. I was flying above Seoul. I don’t think Nightmare could fly.”

Renjun sits up straight.

“Suddenly I was in this really dark room. Like an evil lair from that cartoon we used to watch as kids. And there was this guy just… standing there. There was a huge window on the wall but I couldn’t see it until the panels covering it opened up to reveal the glass. And then the guy turned around and looked me dead in the eye and then I woke up.”

Renjun’s eyes widen. _Did he just…_ “What did he look like?” Renjun asks, before biting his own tongue.

“I couldn’t see.”

“Oh.”

While Renjun’s mind whirs, trying to make sense of what Jeno’s just told him, Jeno lets out a soft, kittenish yawn. “Thanks for talking to me,” says Jeno. “I think… I feel a little better now. I’m gonna try to go back to sleep.”

Renjun’s heart melts a little. “Good night, Jeno. Sleep well. Call me again if you need anything.”

“I will. Good night, Renjun.”

Jeno hangs up. Renjun clicks off his phone, enveloping himself in darkness. Now he’s the one that can’t sleep.

🐞🐱

“Ladybug, you look… horrible,” says Chat Noir.

Renjun snorts. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, seriously. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

It’s 2 a.m. at Myeongdong Cathedral again. Their monthly patrols have turned into weekly check-ups, and now they’re just here. Hanging out. Doing whatever it is that teenage vigilantes are supposed to do late at night. Chat Noir gives Renjun reports on suspicious activity, of which there has been none recently. The attacks have dwindled down to nothing. Renjun doesn’t know what Papillon’s waiting for.

Renjun’s supposed to give Chat Noir _his_ updates on what he’s figured out about Papillon’s grand scheme, but he hasn’t made much progress in that regard, either. Jeno’s nightmares rear their ugly heads up every few days or so, but what he’s gleaned from Jeno’s recounts he hasn’t managed to piece together yet. The little snippets don’t seem to fit together.

It’s unbelievably frustrating. If— _when_ Renjun ever finds Papillon, he’s going to strangle him.

He leans his head on Chat Noir’s shoulder, oblivious to the momentary hitch in Chat Noir’s breathing. It’s comfortable, like this. Chat Noir adjusts his posture to account for Renjun’s head on his shoulder, body motion fluid like water.

“No,” admits Renjun, feeling boneless. “But what high school student ever gets enough sleep?” His eyes widen. _Damn, he shouldn’t have said that._

Chat Noir takes it in stride, though. “God, I know, right? Having to juggle homework and being a superhero is not fun.”

“You’re a high school student?” asks Renjun, curious, lifting his head to look at Chat Noir. He’d assumed, but he hadn’t known for sure.

“Uh, yeah?” Chat Noir blinks. “Did you not know?”

“Well—” Renjun bites down on his lip, suddenly embarrassed. He flops back down on Chat Noir’s shoulder. “I was hoping that I didn’t get randomly paired up with some old creep, but it’s nice to have reassurance.”

Chat Noir laughs, and the sound resonates. With acoustics like this, he really does have a nice voice. Renjun thinks he could be a voice actor after all of this, if it wouldn’t be a dead giveaway. “Why, not into older men?”

Renjun shoves him a little. “Shut up. You’re so annoying.”

“And you’re so cute, Ladybug-ah,” cooes Chat Noir. “But back to business. What do you have for me today?”

Renjun bites his lip, words heavy on the tip of his tongue. He still hasn’t told Chat Noir about Jeno’s nightmares yet, skirting around them whenever he shares his theories. His connection to Jeno would be difficult to explain—a breach of both Jeno’s privacy and his own. Why would he, a superhero, have a random civilian on speed dial?

“Ladybug?” asks Chat Noir, tongue tripping on the ‘L’ in a way that almost sounds like a harder ‘r.’ Renjun jolts, shocked out of his thoughts.

“I don’t have anything for you,” says Renjun, and the weight of it is lighter than a lie but heavier than the truth.

🐞🐱

“I’m staging an intervention,” says Jaemin.

“Huh?” Renjun picks his head up off the lunch table before dropping it back down, too tired to sit up properly. The tables are disgusting, he knows, but at this point he can’t bring himself to care.

It’s just them today—Donghyuck and Jeno are MIA. Normally, Renjun wouldn’t mind time alone with Jaemin, but all he wants to do right now is curl up in a ball and die. Or go home. Or both.

“Three hours of sleep a night to get into a top university, four hours to get into an okay university, five hours and you can forget about getting into university at all,” goes the saying. Renjun’s been awake for the past twenty-four hours and his grades are slipping. If he doesn’t get into college, he blames Papillon.

“You need more sleep,” says Jaemin decisively. “And to relax. Have fun a little.”

“I can’t really,” argues Renjun.

“Why not?”

Renjun briefly entertains the idea of telling Jaemin it’s because he’s a superhero with a big, bad nemesis who keeps giving Jeno nightmares, but ultimately, he just says, “School.”

“It’s Friday,” says Jaemin, as if that makes things any better. Tonight’s his scheduled meet-up with Chat Noir; he can’t wait to show up and have Chat Noir comment on how dead he looks again. “Let’s go get milk tea and watch a movie after school. My treat.”

Renjun tries not to dwell on the fact that Jaemin’s basically asking him out on a date, even if it’s platonic and out of concern for his health. “Yeah, okay,” he says, hoping he sounds nonchalant. “Milk tea and a movie sounds good.”

🐞🐱

They only make it to Gong Cha before Jaemin realizes that Renjun is way too sleep-deprived to stay awake for the first five minutes of the movie, let alone the entire thing. He makes the (probably wise) executive decision to cancel their movie plans and bring Renjun back home.

“Sorry I ruined the fun,” Renjun struggles to say through a yawn, eyes slipping shut.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Jaemin. “We’ll go and see one next time, just the two of us, yeah?”

Renjun nods, not really processing what he’s saying. “Next time,” he repeats.

“Get some sleep, Renjunnie,” says Jaemin. Renjun mumbles an agreement, eyes still closed.

HIs eyes shoot wide open when he feels Jaemin’s lips on his forehead, startled into momentary awakeness. Did Jaemin just kiss his forehead? Since when did Jaemin give people forehead kisses?

“Don’t trip on the stairs going up,” says Jaemin fondly, waving as he walks away.

Renjun teeters on the edge of falling asleep standing up and feeling like he’s just had five red-bulls, blinking hard to clear his vision. By the time he’s finally in the right mind to retort that he’s not that clumsy, Jaemin is already gone, nothing but the phantom feeling of his lips on Renjun’s forehead to indicate that he was ever there.

Absently, Renjun touches his forehead, rubbing the spot where Jaemin kissed him.

🐞🐱

He sleeps through the meeting with Chat Noir, waking up with a start when sunlight leaks in through the blinds of his window the next morning. He tries to reschedule their meeting through Chenle, but his kwami dutifully reports that Chat Noir had told him “no way, go to sleep,” he quotes.

Renjun doesn’t know if Chenle’s telling the truth or not, but he falls back asleep anyways.

🐞🐱

The nightmares continue. The eyebags under Jeno’s eyes darken. Renjun goes through every day with a prickle on the back of his neck and tension in his veins, feeling like he’s being watched, like he can never rest for fear of being caught off guard.

Chat Noir shows up at his window one day.

“Ah, what the fuck!” Renjun drops his pencil case, watching everything inside tumble out and scatter across his desk. There is highlighter on his homework where there should not be.

It’s a beautiful day today. Renjun had opened the window in his bedroom to let in some fresh air, and so he could better hear any screaming that started up. He didn’t expect a stray cat.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just checking up on you, Renjun,” says Chat Noir, perching himself delicately on the windowsill. There’s an odd lilt to the way he says Renjun’s name. Crisp, clear, tongue wrapping around the words in a way that’s not quite the correct Chinese but not really the Korean transliteration either. In between. Almost like the way… Renjun shakes the thought out of his head.

Renjun stares at him, still gripping his pencil like a vice. “Why?”

“I wanted to make sure you were doing alright?” offers Chat Noir, after a beat. He’s still outside, somehow maintaining his balance.

Renjun pushes up from his desk chair. “Come in, then.”

It’s funny how quickly Chat Noir makes himself at home, as if he’s been inside Renjun’s room a million times. He throws himself onto the chaise longue in the corner, stretching out with a small yawn. Renjun refuses to admit it’s kind of cute. He perches on the edge of his bed, hands toying with the blankets.

Chat Noir rolls over so that he’s facing Renjun. “How’s Jeno doing?”

Renjun shrugs. “As well as he can be, I guess. You couldn’t ask him yourself?”

“I could,” says Chat Noir, “and I will. But I wanted to hear it from you first.”

“Me?”

“Yes. The best friend, right?”

Renjun crosses his arms. “Chat, I’m sure you’re a busy man. You can’t be telling me you went out of your way just to ask me about Jeno.”

“Aw, you got me.” He scoots to the end of the chaise, and suddenly he’s a lot closer to Renjun, eyes blinking a slow amber in the sunlight. Renjun stifles a gulp. “In my defense, I did think you would be more honest than Jeno would. Jeno would tell me he’s fine and that would be the end of it.”

Renjun clicks his tongue. “Fair enough.”

“But maybe I just wanted to see you too,” purrs Chat Noir, winking at him. Renjun chokes on a laugh. “See how my favorite fanboy is doing.”

“I never said I was your fan,” says Renjun, pursing his lips to hide a smile, “and this is the second time I’ve ever talked to you.” As a civilian, at least.

Chat Noir blinks. “Oh. That’s right.”

“That’s right? What do you mean that’s right?” demands Renjun.

Chat Noir’s face freezes for a moment, before he breaks into a smile. Renjun swears he _knows_ this smile—swears he’s seen it before. But where? “You haven’t publicly admitted your deep adoration for me, I’d forgotten,” says Chat Noir, words rolling off his tongue. “That’s okay, Renjun. I know you love me.”

“Weren’t you here to ask about Jeno?” asks Renjun, switching topics before his head gets any more messed up. “He’s the real Chat Noir fanboy, you know. I saw him looking at your fansite pics the day he—”

Renjun falls silent, the words he didn’t say lying heavy between both of them. When he looks up, the guilt on Chat Noir’s face mirrors his own. He doesn’t know why, but Chat Noir feels as personally responsible as he does. And that’s enough for Renjun to see a solution—one that’ll both keep his two identities separate and protect Jeno.

“Jeno’s been having nightmares,” blurts Renjun. “About being Nightmare, yeah, but also… about other things.”

“Really?” asks Chat Noir, sitting up.

Renjun nods. Hook, line, and sinker.

🐞🐱

Donghyuck makes the executive decision to declare a “boys’ night in.” Of course he does this without consulting any of them, but no one really has plans, anyways, so they’re holed up in Renjun’s room to watch movies and make a mess. The only one unhappy about this arrangement is Chenle, because he has to stay hidden in a shoebox in Renjun’s closet.

Jaemin falls backward onto the chaise lounge with a sigh, the first one to storm in. The familiarity of the situation doesn’t fail to strike Renjun—except instead of Chat, it’s Jaemin. Renjun thinks about Jaemin in all leather and stops himself before he can spiral down the rabbit hole.

“The plants are growing nicely,” says Jeno, making his way in, followed by Donghyuck. He sits on the bed next to Renjun. It’s always like this—Donghyuck in the chair, Jaemin on the chaise, and Jeno and Renjun on the bed. The normalcy of it is grounding. Sometimes, he’s allowed to just be a teenager and unwind.

Donghyuck groans. “He made me inspect them with him.”

“My dad’s been taking care of them,” says Renjun, hooking his laptop up to the projector. “It’s relaxing for him, or something.”

No matter how much he tries, though, Renjun can’t get himself to fully relax. Jeno is completely fluid against him, head resting on his shoulder, and Renjun tries to stop shifting. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaemin’s fidgeting too.

“I gotta go make a call,” he whispers, getting up from the chaise. “Gimme a few.”

Jeno hums softly in assent. Renjun doesn’t even think Donghyuck heard. He watches Jaemin slip out the door, padding down the stairs.

When five minutes pass by and Jaemin still hasn’t returned, Renjun gets up. “I’m getting water,” he says in response to Jeno’s sleepy whine.

Jeno grumbles and flops down onto the bed.

Renjun eases the door open, squeezing out through as small a crack as possible so the light doesn’t spill out into the dim hallway. He catches Jaemin murmuring, words too quiet to be intelligible, but when he stops talking, another voice picks up. The voice is too soft to be picked up over a phone without any grain, unless…

… there’s another person in his house.

Renjun’s blood spikes, tension lodging itself into his shoulders. He makes his way down the stairs, avoiding the creaky spots through years of practice, and turns his ear towards the living room. The voices grow louder.

“I can’t—” “—tell him! He’d fr—” “—how he is, he’s always been so—“ “—that I knew, he’d go—” “I don’t wanna—”

“Are you—” “—lead him on then? Act like you don’t—” “—fool him into that—” “—you’ve been forgetting he doesn’t—” “—see your slip-ups.”

“That was one time, and it—” “—respect his— ”

“By lying—” “—he’s not a child. If you know, then he—” “—both knew, then it’d be easier—”

—and then Renjun trips over one of his dad’s yoga mats.

The resulting fall is not quiet, to say the least.

The voices stop immediately. From here, he can see Jaemin fumble with his phone, holding it up to his ear, although it’s more at the crown of his head. Renjun narrows his eyes. He’s holding it upside down.

Jaemin makes eye contact with him. “Hold on, I gotta go,” he says into the receiver, before tapping on the screen. If it casts any light back on his face, Renjun doesn’t catch it. “Renjun, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Renjun grits out, wincing. Jaemin rushes over to help him up. “Just getting some water.”

Jaemin cocks his head. “But the kitchen is over there?”

 _Fuck._ “I, uh… it’s dark. And I couldn’t see.”

Jaemin gives him a funny look. “Fair enough.”

“What was that?” calls Donghyuck from his room.

“Renjun tripped while getting water,” Jaemin yells back.

A beat, and then… “Can you get me some too? I’m thirsty.”

🐞🐱

“ _Renjun,_ ” gasps out Jeno, “he just—”

“I’m here, I’m here.” Renjun fumbles with the phone at his ear, making shushing noises into the receiver. “It’s okay, Jeno, I’m here.”

There’s a long pause after that, nothing but the sound of Jeno’s breathing, slow and deep, coming through the speakers. Right when Renjun thinks Jeno’s fallen asleep again, he speaks. “I’m worried for you.”

Renjun’s mouth twists. “Me? Why me?”

“I don’t know, I just—” Jeno breaks off abruptly. Renjun can almost imagine his expression, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. “Every time I dream, I just get the feeling that something bad’s going on with you. Like you’re in danger.”

“Oh.”

“Please be careful.”

“I will,” Renjun promises. Jeno’s desperation bleeds over the line, burrowing itself into Renjun’s heart. He and Jeno pledged to protect each other, a long time ago, and Renjun hasn’t been holding up his end of the deal. Some best friend he is. “Is today a talking day, or do you want me to distract you?”

Rarely are they talking days. More often than not, Jeno forgets the details but remembers the feelings, and isn’t fond of reliving those. On those days, Renjun talks his ear off about anything and everything until his eyelids grow heavy and Jeno stops responding. He has a feeling, though, that today is not a normal day.

And sure enough, Jeno says, “I wanna talk. I don’t know if I need to say it, or you need to hear it, but I think I should talk.”

Renjun pushes himself up into a sitting position, back against the headboard of his bed. “Then go ahead.”

It starts off like it has the past few times—being Nightmare, going into the dark room with the window that suddenly opens up, the silhouette of the man—”and then he started saying something,” says Jeno.

“What’d he say?”

“I don’t know, that’s the thing,” says Jeno, suddenly hushed. “It sounded like English, but I didn’t pay enough attention in that class to know for sure.”

“Huh,” says Renjun. He also didn’t pay attention in that class, but to be fair, no one did. “So he was just speaking in English?”

“Yeah— well.” Jeno trails off; Renjun can hear the gears in his head whirring. “He kept saying this one other phrase that didn’t sound like English. _Ho lun faan_ or something.”

The pronunciation probably isn’t perfect, but Renjun would bet money that it’s from some Chinese dialect. “Definitely not English.”

Jeno hums in agreement. “Oh, and Renjun?”

“Yeah?”

“This guy… isn’t just a figment of my imagination, is he? He’s real. He’s the guy who turned me into Nightmare.”

Renjun gulps. “I think so.”

Jeno lets out a half-sigh, half-yawn. Renjun’s about to say good night when Jeno speaks again.

“He finally came into the light today. He was wearing a brooch, in the shape of a butterfly.”

🐞🐱

“Dad, what does _ho lun faan_ mean?”

Renjun’s dad stares at him, grip slackening on the knife he’s using to cut vegetables. Renjun eyes it nervously. “Where’d you learn that?”

 _Shit._ “Youtube,” he lies.

“Well, don’t say it to anyone,” says his dad, shaking his head. “You’ll get into a fight that way.”

“What does it mean, though,” asks Renjun, dragging out the vowels like he’s five again.

“I don’t speak Cantonese very well,” says his dad, “but I think it means something like ‘so fucking annoying?’ I used to have a friend who would say it a lot.”

His dad stops cutting, laying the knife on the cutting board. His smile looks different now. Tinged with sadness, maybe. “He had a foul mouth,” he says, looking down at the vegetables. “Kind of like you.”

“Hey!” says Renjun, indignant. His dad laughs, and the moment passes.

🐞🐱

“Let’s talk about nightmares,” says Chat Noir.

“Nightmares?”

Renjun’s Ladybug suit does wonders for breathability and movement, but as the nights grow colder, the thinner his suit feels. He doesn’t know how Chat Noir survives in black leather all the time, through, so it’s a trade-off he’s willing to make.

He spreads a blanket over himself, Chat Noir worms his way underneath, and it’s nice like this. With how quiet it’s been recently, they’ve just been able to sit and relax a bit. Sometimes Renjun worries about being lulled into letting his guard down, but Chat Noir assures him that he’s never seemed more tense.

He’s not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not.

Today, though, Chat Noir’s brought cake. It’s from Renjun’s dad’s bakery, actually. His eyes light up at the familiar box, and now he’s wondering if he can remember who came in to buy a cake recently.

He hands the box to Renjun, who carefully opens the lid. Inside, taped to the box, is a little note. _For the sweetest boy in my life,_ it reads. _Love, Chat Noir._

Chat Noir grins at him. Renjun hides his own smile, searching for the plastic knife that comes with the box to cut the cake. He offers Chat Noir a slice, but he waves it off. “Not a fan of strawberries.”

Renjun gapes. “Not a fan of strawberries? Why’d you buy this, then?”

“It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?”

Chat Noir shrugs. “Just a hunch.”

Renjun can’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “Well, thank you.”

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, once he’s halfway through his own piece, cake stuffed into his cheeks..

“Nothing special,” says Chat Noir, casually, “except you, maybe.”

And that’s another thing. Chat Noir’s flirting has been constant. What hasn’t been is—

Renjun licks sweet strawberry cream off of his fork. “This cream is pretty sweet,” he says, maintaining eye contact with Chat Noir. “But I think it’d be sweeter with the taste of your lips.”

—that.

Chat Noir’s eyes widen imperceptibly as he laughs over his coughs, turning away from Renjun to hide his face. Renjun internally fist-pumps.

Now, instead of acting annoyed whenever Chat Noir flirts with him, Renjun flirts back. Even if he’s really bad at it, it’s fun to watch Chat Noir get flustered. And get flustered he always does—even if Renjun, stuck for ideas, compares the pretty blush on his cheeks to raw tuna meat. He’s bad at figurative language, okay?

 _Why,_ Chat Noir had asked him once, in between bouts of coughing. Renjun had wanted to say ‘for practice’ initially—to someday use on Jaemin, veritable god of flirting—but it hadn’t felt 100% right. Sure, he’d love to be able to make Jaemin blush, but that doesn’t mean it’s not fun, joking around with Chat Noir. He likes it. Even if it doesn’t mean anything.

Renjun suppresses a groan. Boys are so difficult.

“Back to the nightmares,” he says, switching topics. “What did you wanna say about that?”

“Oh, yeah,” says Chat Noir. “Renjun gave me some updates.”

“Renjun, like Jeno’s friend Renjun?” asks Renjun, just to play dumb.

“Yeah, that one.” Chat Noir has a strange expression on his face—for Renjun, who’s as used to being able to read him as he is, it’s a little disconcerting. “He took the liberty of sketching out what Jeno described to him.”

From inside the bag he brought the cake in, he pulls out a sheet of plastic. Renjun’s eyes widen. Chat Noir’d gone through the trouble of laminating Renjun’s quick little sketch on newsprint. He picks it up. “Wow, this is nice.”

“It is,” says Chat Noir. “He’s a great artist.”

Renjun meant the laminate, but the praise isn’t unwelcome. He traces the lines with his finger, following the path his pencil had sketched just a few days before. Jeno’d only dreamed of the exterior once—the only real descriptor he could give Renjun for that was ‘tall’—so the sketch for that is a rough ‘artist’s rendition.’ The inside, however, is more detailed.

Tick marks with rough estimations of height and distance litter the paper, surrounding the centerpiece: the big window. It extends into a skylight, installed into a domed roof where dome touches wall. Panes inlaid in a criss-cross fashion, clear as air. Jeno’d said when he got closer, he could see Seoul’s skyline—but from what direction, he wasn’t sure. Renjun couldn’t really translate that part into the drawing.

“This remind you of anything?” asks Renjun.

Chat Noir shakes his head. “I was hoping it would spark something in your memory,” he confesses. “I’m also hoping you know someone who speaks both English and Cantonese.”

“No to both.”

Chat smiles. Renjun can read this one—it’s pained. “Then we’re stuck.”

Three small words, and yet the wave of frustration they release in Renjun is overwhelming, a hot flash of anger that threatens to swallow him whole. “We’re not getting anywhere,” he groans, gripping the laminated drawing so hard he’s scared no plastic is going to save the paper from wrinkling. “We’re just sitting here wasting time and we’re no closer to stopping Papillon or even finding out who he is!”

It’s unbelievable how fast he gets worked up when just minutes before, he was joking around with Chat Noir. But the tension of the past few weeks—no, months—has got him wound so tightly it feels like the smallest things can make him snap.

“Hey.” Chat Noir rests his hand on Renjun’s shoulder, and Renjun wilts at his touch. “I get it; I’m frustrated too. But Papillon will slip up eventually, and that’s when we’ll get him.”

“When?” Renjun lets out a harsh breath, digging his palms into his eyes. He’s exhausted. “We have no clues, Jeno’s still having nightmares, and— and— one of my friends is acting so suspiciously lately.”

Chat Noir’s hand stills. “You can’t mean—”

“There’s no way,” cuts in Renjun. “He couldn’t be. I know him, and I know he wouldn’t do this. But—” Renjun breaks off. Almost to himself, he whispers, “Jaemin, what’s going on with you?”

“Don’t.” Suddenly both of Chat Noir’s hands are on Renjun’s shoulders, turning Renjun’s body towards him. “Look at me. Don’t let Papillon trick you into distrusting your friends. He’s trying to get you alone. Don’t let him.”

Renjun shrugs him off. “I know, I know. But can I just be a little angry that one of my friends is choosing _now_ to act weirdly, when everything else is driving me insane?”

“Of course you can,” says Chat Noir, and Renjun hates how nice and calm he is about everything when Renjun’s gone through fifty different emotions in the past five minutes. “And I promise I’ll be here for you, even when everything seems like it’s falling apart.”

“I—” Renjun can’t stand the look in Chat Noir’s eyes, looking at him like he hung the stars, the concerned twist of his lips, he wants to wipe it off his face, _kiss_ it off—

—and then Chat Noir leans in—or Renjun leans in—or both of them lean in, and they meet in the middle.

Renjun lets his eyes flutter shut, focusing on the feeling of Chat Noir’s lips on his. They’re chapped as hell, but Renjun finds he doesn’t really mind.

It’s soft, at first. They move together in harmony, Renjun bracing himself on Chat Noir’s shoulders and Chat Noir tilting Renjun’s head back to cradle it in his hands. Renjun kicks the blanket off, moving so that he’s straddling Chat Noir’s lap. He doesn’t need it anymore. He’s running so, so hot, liquid fire snaking its way through his veins and to his hands when he cups Chat Noir’s cheeks. Chat Noir settles his hands on Renjun’s waist, and the breath catches in his throat.

Chat Noir dips his head to kiss him again, sweetly, except when Renjun pushes back he makes a small noise that twists itself into Renjun’s gut. Renjun’s playing it by ear—it’s been a long time since he’s kissed anybody, and never someone he’s liked this much—but he’s nothing if not bold. He teases his tongue at the seam of Chat Noir’s lips and hums in satisfaction when they part for him.

Chat Noir is so gentle with him, it breaks his heart a little. He’s perfect—follows Renjun’s lead, shifts to move with him and chases after him when Renjun pulls back a little to tease. Renjun feels light-headed, heat building in the back of his head and threatening to explode, burning everywhere Chat Noir touches him.

When he finally pulls away, the burning in his lungs overcoming the pleasant heat on his lips, Renjun leans back to really look at Chat Noir. His hair mussed from Renjun tangling his hands in it. Even under the mask, Renjun can see the flush of his cheeks in the dim lighting. His eyes are so bright, like stars twinkling in the night sky, and the supernova explosion in Renjun’s chest only grows.

He’s perfect, and it’s really unfair to both of them, because Renjun is half in love with him and half in love with Jaemin when he shouldn’t be in love with either.

Renjun presses his forehead to Chat Noir’s, closing his eyes. Their heavy breaths mingle together in the silence. “I’m sorry,” says Renjun, and means it.

🐞🐱

It’s really hard to look Chat Noir in the face and pretend he’s not Ladybug and pretend he hadn’t kissed him and pretend everything is okay. Renjun does it anyways, because he has to.

He’d called off the frequent meet-ups, saying there was no point if they weren’t going to make any progress. Really, it’s because he could’ve handled seeing Chat Noir as Ladybug even less than he does as Renjun. They’re back to monthly patrols now. It doesn’t stop Chat Noir from checking in on _Renjun_ , though. He invades Renjun’s life with his warm smiles and witty jokes and genuine concern and it makes Renjun’s heart twist itself into knots.

And if that isn’t bad enough, Jaemin’s been clingier than normal, throwing his arms around Renjun’s shoulders, poking his cheeks, breaking their normal lunch table arrangement by sitting next to him instead of Donghyuck. It makes him feel better to know that, like this, he can monitor Jaemin more closely for his own peace of mind, but the constant exposure is excruciating.

They’re too much, both of them—Chat Noir and Jaemin. Sometimes, Renjun finds himself wishing they were the same person, if just to make it easier on his heart.

He and Jaemin are on a study date at the coffee shop near Jaemin’s apartment today, just the two of them. Jeno has his volunteer shift at the animal shelter today and Donghyuck had announced very dramatically that he couldn’t go and then winked extremely unsubtly at Renjun, so neither of them are present. Jaemin pays for both of their drinks, Renjun’s normal latte along with his Americano-from-hell, and sits across from him in the booth, lightly kicking him under the table.

Renjun tells him if he doesn’t stop doing that he’s going to kick him back for real. Jaemin just smiles. “Are you even tall enough to reach?”

The hiss of pain he lets out through his teeth when Renjun kicks him in the shin is music to Renjun’s ears.

“You are so dangerous,” Jaemin wheezes, “in more ways than one.”

Renjun isn’t really sure what he’s talking about. “Talk shit get hit,” he offers in return.

They’re studying for their chemistry test tomorrow, working through some review problems together. All in all, it’s pretty productive—they finish the entire assignment, even if the number of times Renjun catches himself staring at Jaemin is greater than he can count on his fingers. When nothing but the dregs of his latte remain and he has to physically restrain Jaemin from buying a third coffee, Renjun decides it’s time to leave.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offers. At least he can do this—even if he can’t protect his friends from all harm, at least he can walk Jaemin home.

“Didn’t bring the Vespa today?” asks Jaemin, eyes glittering with mischief.

“No,” says Renjun, “and even if I did, I wouldn’t let you drive it.”

Jaemin pouts, and Renjun’s suddenly very glad he didn’t bring his Vespa, because he’s not sure he wouldn’t have given in already if he did. “Worth a try.”

As they walk home, the back of their hands keep brushing every few steps, until Renjun’s tempted to just grab Jaemin’s hand and end the cycle. Just as he works up the nerve to do it, the familiar view of Jaemin’s apartment building comes into view. Renjun goes with him right up to the doors outside the lobby.

“Thanks for walking me back,” murmurs Jaemin, eyes filled with an inexplicable fondness. Before Renjun can blink, Jaemin plants a soft kiss on his forehead. “Be safe, alright?”

Somehow, Renjun doesn’t think he means just on the way home. “Okay,” he says, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Jaemin’s ear. “Good night.”

🐞🐱

“I feel like a kid again!” says Donghyuck, beaming. “When was the last time we went on a field trip?”

“It’s just Lotte World Tower,” says Renjun. “You’ve been there a million times already.”

“Yeah, but not on a field trip,” argues Donghyuck. He gets up on the bus seat to look at Renjun, seated in the row behind him. “There’s just something about being with all the third-years that makes it different.”

Someone throws a ball of paper at Donghyuck’s head. Jaemin snorts. “Because you really wanna be on a field trip with these people.”

Jeno laughs. Donghyuck sticks his tongue out at Renjun and sits back down.

They don’t really do field-trips, normally. It’s just been a tradition for their school—having all the third-years go on a fun trip before the college entrance examinations, as a way to destress. Which are another thing that’s been kicking Renjun’s ass. Between studying, and Papillon, and everything else that’s been going on, Renjun’s starting to understand why Mark went back to Canada for university.

So even though the bus ride isn’t ideal, Renjun still appreciates the trip out.

The ordeal is over quickly, anyways. Once they’re there, it takes a lot less time to pay everyone’s entrance fees and get them up the elevator in groups than he would imagine, and before long they’re up on the main observatory floor. In the chaos, their group of four had been separated—Jeno and Donghyuck get crammed into one elevator, and Jaemin and Renjun are left to wait for the next one.

Renjun doesn’t know if it’s separation anxiety, but he’s uneasy waiting for the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently. He’s so distracted he doesn’t notice Jaemin tangling their hands together until he feels him squeeze his hand once, an assurance. His silver ring is cool against Renjun’s skin. Renjun squeezes back.

And it worries him that that’s Jaemin’s response to his nervousness. It makes him feel like there actually is something worth worrying about.

The elevator arrives with a _ding!_ , and Renjun, Jaemin, and forty of their schoolmates squish into the car. Renjun tries not to think of it as a metal box of death.

The doors shut, and the elevator starts upwards.

All this time, Jaemin still hasn’t let go of his hand. Despite the tour guide’s yelling and the general chatter that comes with being packed like sardines in a metal box with forty other teenagers, Renjun can still hear him humming under his breath. He smiles when he recognizes the tune—it’s that new Christmas song, “Coming Home.” Chat’s been singing it nonstop when he invades Renjun’s room and distracts him from his homework.

Renjun frowns. Huh.

Before he can think about it too much, though, the elevator doors slide open after an excruciatingly long ride, spitting them all out onto floor 117. Renjun does a quick scan—the group that came up before them must’ve dispersed already, given free rein of the place by the teachers. Jeno and Donghyuck are nowhere to be seen.

Jaemin tugs him towards the stairs leading up. “Let’s go eat, I’m hungry.”

Renjun wrinkles his nose. “Didn’t you just eat breakfast?”

Jaemin gives him a look. “And what about it?”

It’s not until they’re seated and Jaemin’s digging into his food that Renjun can really sit and observe him. And think. He’s dropped the ball on too many clues, and it’s only now that everything is starting to add up. “Coming Home.” Strawberry cake. A ring on the right hand. Mysterious phone calls. A catalogue of smiles and eyes as expressive as a theatre.

Renjun’s phone buzzes insistently in his pocket. He turns it off so he can think.

When he looks back through his memories, everything blurs—

Jaemin looks up from his food, face set in an expression of concern. One Renjun’s seen so many times before, but not just on Jaemin’s face. Or maybe it always has been on Jaemin’s face, just hidden behind a mask.

—and two faces merge into one.

Renjun opens his mouth. “You—”

And that—as per usual—is cue. Cut scene, roll script.

The screaming starts.

🐞🐱

Alarms blare as the lights shut off, leaving them cast in the red glare of emergency lighting. “ _Please remain calm and head to the elevators,_ ” speaks an automated voice. “ _This is an emergency evacuation. This is not a drill._ ”

Renjun looks out the window. Outside, the city is dark. The streetlights have all been killed, yet there’s a faint purple glow that Renjun really doesn’t like the memory of. He feels his heart jam into his throat when he catches sight of the bubble that Nightmare had emerged from, so long ago—except there are hundreds, thousands of them now, arranged on the street below into one word:

_Omen._

The akuma that he’d never been able to purify—it’s come back with a vengeance. It’s multiplied. Bile rises in Renjun’s throat. He’s going to be sick.

In the crush of people heading to the elevators, it’s easy for him and Jaemin to slip away to the restrooms, Jaemin dragging him up and out of his seat by the hand. Jaemin whirls around as soon as they’re safely inside, door deadbolted. “I need to tell you,” he starts, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I’m—”

But Renjun’s already caught up. “You’re Chat Noir,” he cuts in. It’s not a question.

Jaemin opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. “Yes,” he says. “And you’re—”

“Ladybug.”

“Yes.”

“When did you find out?”

Jaemin looks like he won’t answer at first, eyes darting between him and the door leading out to the observatory deck where the alarms are still blaring, but eventually he speaks again. “I brought you home after Nightmare. You de-transformed after he hit you with that bolt.”

Renjun remembers how nervous Chenle was that day. He’d chalked it up to general stress from Jeno’s akumatization, but if Chenle was hiding something from him—

“I asked your kwami not to tell you because I didn’t want to freak you out,” Jaemin says before Renjun can burst a vein. “So don’t get mad at him. Both of us know how you get about your privacy.”

“For good reason,” retorts Renjun, but he’s not really in the mood to argue right now. With the bubbles outside waiting to hatch into Nightmare-lookalikes, he’s only thinking about one thing: where the original is. Where is Jeno, he wonders, restarting his phone and hoping for a quick text assuring him that he and Donghyuck are safe on the ground.

“Damn it, load faster,” he curses, watching the Apple logo glow tauntingly at him on the otherwise dark screen. Jaemin checks his phone too, and puts it away almost immediately after. Nothing on his end.

When Renjun’s phone finally does load, his blood runs cold at the notifications on the screen. _Missed Call (4) from Jeno_ , the screen reads. _Voicemail (1) from Jeno_.

Renjun presses play.

Jeno’s panic is palpable, coming in harsh breaths through the speakers. _“Renjun, the skyline,”_ he pants, and things click into place. _“It’s— it’s what I saw— Renjun, he’s here—”_

He’s here. _He’s here._ Papillon has been right under their noses all this time—or perhaps, right above.

“This is his hideout,” says Renjun, realizations going off like fireworks. “Papillon is based inside this building. This is the view that Jeno’s been seeing in his dreams.”

Jaemin blanches. “What?” he asks, voice shrill. “He—”

He cuts off when Jeno speaks again _“Renjun, I— I know,”_ says Jeno, voice giving out on the last word. He coughs, and it rattles through Renjun’s phone’s speakers. _“I know it’s you._ He _knows it’s you, too. Please don’t do anything stupid, Renjun, please,_ run—”

The call cuts off with a scream, searing itself into Renjun’s brain and settling in his stomach like food poisoning. “Fuck,” swears Renjun. “He— the son of a bitch took Jeno. Again.”

Tears prick at Renjun’s eyes. He’s such a failure of a friend, he was supposed to watch out for Jeno and he couldn’t even do that—

“Stop overthinking.” Jaemin lays a hand on Renjun’s shoulder, cutting off his impending meltdown. “We’ll get him back.”

Renjun wants to yell at him, ask him how he can treat this so casually when one of their best friends just got kidnapped again, until he sees the look in Jaemin’s eyes. They’re the coldest he’s ever seen them, all warmth sapped out. His hand shakes where it touches Renjun. A chill shoots down Renjun’s spine.

Jaemin’s voice is low when he speaks. “I swear on it.”

🐞🐱

“Chenle, spots on!” yells Renjun, at the same time Jaemin says, “Jisung, claws out!”

In a flash of light, Jaemin is gone, and in his place is the same boy but masked. Renjun really doesn’t know how he didn’t realize, all this time; they were too similar for it to be a mere coincidence.

Pushing down all the burning questions he wants to ask, all the demands he wants to make, Renjun looks him dead in the eye. “Let’s go.”

Chat Noir nods.

Once they’re out back onto the main observatory floor, it’s clear Papillon’s never going to make things easy for them. The elevators are down—Renjun can only hope everyone made it out before—and the ceiling above the stairs has collapsed in, three meters of rubble blocking their way. They need to go up, Renjun’s sure of it, but how?

Chat Noir uses Cataclysm on a window pane, watching in grim satisfaction as it dissolves under his hands. “If Papillon blocks our way, we’ll just make a new one,” he declares.

Renjun pokes his head out, eyes squinting closed from the windchill. The wind speeds at this height are insane; one misstep would mean both of their deaths. And yet they have no choice, do they? “Come on.”

One arm around Chat Noir, Renjun uses the other to shoot his yo-yo up like a grappling hook, tugging on it to test the security when it finds purchase somewhere near the top of the building. Climbing vertically is hard enough, but when he’s supporting another person’s weight and the glass is as slippery as ice, Renjun finds himself chanting prayers under his breath. He’s not even religious.

When they make it to the top, thankfully without any real mishaps—besides Renjun almost dropping Chat Noir once, but he’d _caught him_ —there’s a man waiting for them there. Unlike Jeno’s dream, he’s unmasked, but the cruel neutrality of his expression gives away nothing, not even an indication of being cold despite the furious winds. He’s familiar, though. Renjun’s seen him before—he swears on it.

While Renjun tries to figure out _where on earth_ he could’ve possibly seen this man before, the man speaks. _“Long time no see, Renjun,”_ he says, in accented Mandarin. _“You’ve grown up well.”_

And when he says it, the slightest sliver of emotion bleeds out of his face—barely anything, but it’s already enough.

Renjun digs back in the deepest recesses of his brain to find a memory from a very long time ago.

🐞🐱

Renjun is seven, on the floor of his bedroom in his childhood home in Jilin. The walls are baby blue, and everything is fuzzy and bright, like a pleasant dream he never wants to wake up from.

They’re moving. Sicheng is leaving for university, and their parents have gotten new jobs, better ones, they say. “Jobs that will let us spend more time with our _baobei_ ,” says his mom, kissing his cheek.

The silver ring on her index finger—not her wedding ring, but the plain band she usually wears along with it—is gone. Renjun grabs her hands and checks all her other fingers to make sure it’s not hiding from him. When he can’t find it, he asks where it went.

She just smiles at him. “I didn’t want it anymore,” she says.

For seven-year-old Renjun, that’s enough of an explanation. “Can I have it then?” he asks.

“Maybe one day,” she says, ruffling his hair. “It’s too big for you right now, though, so wait until you grow big and strong, okay?”

“Okay!” says Renjun, kissing his mom on the cheek and running off to find his dad.

His dad isn’t wearing his earrings today. Renjun doesn’t ever think he’s seen his dad without his earrings. When he tugs on his earlobes, intrigued by the absence of the earrings, his dad just laughs good-naturedly. “That hurts, Xiao Ren,” he says, prying Renjun’s fingers away from his ears. “Have you finished packing all your stuff yet?”

“Yep!” Renjun cheerfully reports.

“Go help your _gege_ pack then, okay?” Renjun’s dad gives him a light push in the direction of his parents’ bedroom. “He’s inside _baba_ and _mama’s_ room; go find him.”

Renjun runs inside to find his brother kneeling on the carpeted floor, diligently packing stuff inside boxes. “ _Baba_ told me to help you!” he says.

Sicheng smiles at him. “I could use some help,” he says. He directs Renjun towards some of the lighter items and teaches him how to fold and arrange everything neatly.

Renjun’s a good worker. He packs quickly, and doesn’t get distracted until he drops a photo album on accident and a few pictures inside come spilling out. When he picks them up to look at them, he can recognize most of the faces. His mom and dad are the easiest to pick out, even if they look younger in the grainy Polaroids, and he can identify his parents’ friends, too.

When he shuffles to the last photo in the deck, though, there’s a face that stands out to him—a man he’s never seen before, sandwiched in between his mom and his dad. The three of them are smiling from ear to ear, arms around each other. Renjun brings the pictures over to Sicheng.

“Who’s this person?” he asks, pointing at the stranger. “He’s never come over to play mahjong before.”

Sicheng’s eyebrows raise. “I used to see him a lot when I was your age,” his brother says slowly, and Renjun _oohs,_ because his brother is _old._ Almost as old as his parents, and they’re _really old._ “But he stopped coming around after a while. He used to be best friends with Mom and Dad, but I think they got into a fight.”

“So they stopped being friends?” asks Renjun, eyes wide.

“Looks like it, _didi,_ ” says Sicheng, ruffling Renjun’s hair.

“That’s sad,” says Renjun. He traces the man’s face in the picture with his finger. He looks so warm and happy. All three of them do. Renjun wonders what could’ve happened to ruin it all.

“What’s his name?” he asks.

Sicheng bites his lip, and Renjun copies him subconsciously. “That’s a tough one,” he says. “It’s been so long, I’m not sure if I remember. Unless, it was— wait. I think I do remember! It was—”

🐞🐱

“Wang Jia’er,” says Renjun.

Jia’er—Papillon—smiles, but it’s mirthless. “Good to see you again. It’s a pity your dad couldn’t be here to join us.”

**Episode 5: Papillon**

Renjun drops into a stance, angling his body so that Chat Noir is behind him. “What did you do with Jeno?”

“Oh, just the usual,” says Papillon, flippant in a way that makes Renjun feel like he’s walking on knife stilts.

He says something else, but it’s swallowed up by the wind before it can reach Renjun. Renjun doesn’t really care, anyways, eyes locked on the brooch at the base of Papillon’s neck. His Miraculous.

For as long as Renjun has been Ladybug, Papillon has been sending akumas after him to steal his Miraculous. It’s about time that he returns the favor.

Renjun shoots his yo-yo out, aiming for the brooch, but the wind whips it away. The string catches around a large antennae, and when he tries to retract it, it ends up pulling him towards it.

Renjun grits his teeth in frustration. Papillon laughs, and pulls a sword out of seemingly nowhere.

“What the fuck?” The sudden pitch in Chat Noir’s voice carries even in the wind, his nervous laughter growing increasingly panicked. “Why does he have a sword?”

Renjun tugs at his yo-yo, hoping it’ll untangle from the antennae. It’s a hopeless cause, but the wind keeps buffeting him, pushing him back every time he tries to step forward. “I don’t know, but I don’t think that’s part of his powers!”

Papillon barely spares a glance at Renjun before lunging at Chat Noir, nearly plunging the blade into his stomach before Chat Noir manages a clumsy sidestep. He parries the next blow, metal screeching on metal, but Renjun can see the impact reverberating through his arm. Papillon’s next slash cuts through leather.

From what Renjun can see, the tip of the blade skims his side, but Chat Noir immediately claps a hand to the wound. A split second moment of weakness, but Papillon takes it. Renjun sees it before it happens. Papillon thrusts his sword out again, this time aiming not for Chat Noir’s stomach but for his right hand.

Renjun screams. “Chat Noir!”

Random steel boxes litter the ground near him. Never more grateful for his enhanced speed, Renjun kicks one with all the force he can muster, hoping it’ll hit home.

By some luck, the box slams into Papillon, sending him staggering a few steps away. The tip of his curve veers away from Chat Noir, who lurches out of range.

Chat Noir uses his staff to vault himself over Papillon’s head, aiming to land himself near Renjun, but the wind slams him into the wall a few meters away. Renjun’s eyes dart between him, groaning from the impact, and Papillon, who’s already recovered, readjusting his grip on his sword.

When Papillon lunges, Renjun retracts his yo-yo.

The tensional force of the string sends him flying straight into Papillon before he can reach Chat Noir. Renjun kicks the sword out of his hand, using every bit of wrestling experience he has to make sure he stays on top when they land. Papillon is heavier than him—that much is obvious—but Renjun’s never let that stop him before, and he’s not about to now.

One arm across his windpipe, knees spread out, Renjun pushes his center of gravity down. Like this, Papillon’s flailing limbs can’t hit him hard enough to hurt. He reaches for the brooch.

With a ferocity born out of desperation, Papillon bucks him off, flipping their positions. Renjun’s back hits the ground flat, breath stolen out of him. He thrashes relentlessly but to no avail—the impact’s left him too dizzy. “Game over, little Ladybug,” says Papillon.

Renjun closes his eyes.

When the weight sitting on him is suddenly knocked off, Renjun opens his eyes to see Papillon hurled into a generator on the far end of the roof. His saviors are a man he doesn’t recognize decked out in all green, and another man in a coat that Renjun’s seen hanging on the hook by the front door every day for the last seventeen years—

“Dad?” Renjun gasps.

Papillon launches into a coughing fit, pushing himself upright. The grin on his face is absolutely feral. “Long time no see, Yixing.”

Renjun’s father’s face is grim. “I’d hoped it would be longer.”

🐞🐱

“Now, that’s no way to greet an old friend,” says Papillon, climbing to his feet. “And Ronghao, too—thought both of you were retired.”

“Back in business,” says the other man—Ronghao.

“Renjun,” says his dad, as calm as usual, “I need to borrow your miraculous.”

Renjun blinks. “What?”

“Renjun,” his dad repeats. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” says Renjun, dumbfounded.

“Then may I please borrow your miraculous?”

Renjun’s head is still fuzzy from earlier, but he’s smart enough not to argue. With one eye on Papillon, he says, “Chenle, spots off.”

In a flash, he de-transforms. He feels exposed; the windchill bites through his t-shirt and jeans. He takes off the earrings and places them in his dad’s open palm.

The holes in his dad’s ears have closed up over time—it takes some shoving to get the earrings in properly. When he’s finally wearing them, though, Renjun’s struck by deja vu. The last time he’s seen his dad wear his signature earrings was ten years ago.

Now those earrings belong to him.

Ronghao smiles at him. “Didn’t know your dad used to be Ladybug, did you?”

“I didn’t want him to know,” says his dad. “Didn’t want him to become my successor, either. But look where we are now.”

“Yixing?” Chenle appears as soon as Renjun’s dad has the earrings on, hovering in the air with a tentativeness that Renjun doesn’t see often on him.

“It’s been a while, Chenle,” says his dad, smiling the first smile he’s seen on him this entire time. “I can’t believe you gave the Ladybug Miraculous to my own son.”

“What can I say?” Chenle shrugs his tiny shoulders. “He’s the only one I could’ve picked.”

Renjun’s dad seems to accepting this reasoning, vague as it is—either that, or he’s past caring. “One last time, for old times’ sake?”

“You bet,” says Chenle.

His dad takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, Renjun feels as if he’s looking at a different person. “Chenle, spots on!”

🐞🐱

“I can’t believe my dad used to be fucking Ladybug,” says Renjun. “And now I’m Ladybug. How the fuck does that work?”

“Beats me,” says Chat Noir.

Renjun’s dad had asked Ronghao—Carapace, he said his official superhero name was—to take them down to the ground while he kicked Papillon’s ass or whatever, “for old times’ sake.” Once their feet hit the asphalt, Carapace is off, running back to support his dad in kicking Papillon’s ass.

It’s an anti-climactic end to a battle that’s been building up for so long. The new generation of heroes, reduced to teenagers being taken out of the crossfire by their parents. Renjun’s effectively out of commision.

Just as he’s about to start ranting again, he catches sight of the purple glow.

He and Chat Noir exchange a look.

After some walking, they stumble across the first row of translucent bubbles, humming with energy. Most of them remain whole, undisturbed, but as they go closer, Renjun notices a few of the bubbles have hatched.

He pushes further into the maze of _Omen,_ poking at a bubble and recoiling when it ripples, slime coating his finger. He wipes it off on his jumpsuit. “What exactly are these? I didn’t get a good luck at the one from last time.”

Chat Noir nudges one with his foot. “I don’t know, but I don’t like that there are so many.”

As they wander further, the bubbles start to stack on each other like walls in a hay maze, obscuring any view but up. They wind into the streets, tight, narrow turns that make Renjun lose all sense of direction. He’s not sure he could find his way back from here.

No way but forward.

Without the normal bustle of city life, Renjun’s footsteps slap too loudly against the pavement. Each step sets off the phantom noise of several more. The wind up above is nonexistent here, air stagnant and unmoving.

“This creeps me out,” whispers Renjun.

Chat Noir doesn’t reply.

Renjun doesn’t think much of it, figures he was barely loud enough for himself to hear, let alone someone else. After a few more paces though, he looks over to check.

The path behind him is swallowed up by lavender fog, no Chat Noir in sight.

Panic claws its way up Renjun’s throat. “Chat Noir?” he calls. “Chat?”

Nothing but the echo of his own voice answers him.

“Jaemin?” he tries, desperate.

When his ears pick up the slightest noise, Renjun tunes, hoping for Chat Noir’s voice, distant as it may be. One step forward, and the sound grows louder. Renjun breaks into a sprint, rushing into the fog setting in. “Chat? _Chat?”_

He runs for what feels like miles, his own heavy breaths filling up his ears until a faint keening filters through. Renjun skids to a halt.

It’s a haunting, dissonant melody. On tiptoe, he follows the sound, trusting that it’ll lead him to where he needs to go. As the sound grows louder, he happens across more hatched bubbles as the stacks grow sky-high. _What were inside these?_

He picks up pace, from a brisk walk to an all-out run, only slowing down once he breaks through the fog and finds himself in an open clearing.

Nightmare-lookalikes—the ones that must’ve hatched out—are arranged in a circle, surrounding the biggest bubble of all, a massive orb ten times the size of any of the others. Purple lightning, like the bolt Nightmare hit Renjun with, shoots out of each one’s palms. They’re all feeding into the orb, he realizes.

Without Chat Noir at his back, he feels so exposed. Renjun creeps toward the center, freezing when the Nightmare-lookalikes all notice him at once, turning their heads to face him in unison.

The bubble falls open with a crack, sending out a wave of energy. Renjun barely has time to blink before it sears through his vision and everything goes black.

🐞🐱

“Renjun?”

Renjun opens his eyes with a gasp. There’s no floor, no ceiling, no anything. He’s suspended in a sky of twinkling stars, distantly bright against the darkness of night. He’s gliding on air.

When he moves forward, he can’t tell if he’s really moved at all—everything just looks the same, the stars gleaming in the same spots from light years away.

“Renjun?”

“Jeno?” calls Renjun, cupping his hand around his mouth like a megaphone. He’s not in space—the sound wouldn’t be able to travel otherwise.

“Renjun, I’m here.”

So where is he?

“Turn around.”

Renjun turns around.

Jeno’s expression is peaceful, a far cry from the agony of Nightmare. He smiles, and a sudden serenity floods Renjun’s body. “Welcome to the dreamscape.”

Renjun turns his head from side to side, stars in every direction. “Is this where you went last time?” he asks, looking back at Jeno.

Jeno nods. “I’d forgotten. But now I remember.”

He beckons Renjun toward him with a wave of his hand, and it’s like Renjun cuts through space and time as Jeno pulls him closer. One moment he’s meters away, the next he’s right in front of him. “I can control everything in this space,” says Jeno. “Except there isn’t much to control. I don’t really have any concept of time in here.”

Outside in the real world, anything could be happening. How much time will have passed when— _if_ —they eventually return, Renjun doesn’t know. His body could be getting beaten to death right now. He still doesn’t know where Chat Noir is. If he’s still alive.

The anxiety he expects to come at the thought never arrives. Like this, Jeno smiling at him with that eye smile—it strikes Renjun with the memory of the first time they met. Just two young boys, timid and innocent and unaware of how close they’d eventually become.

Jeno folds his legs into a criss-cross applesauce position despite the lack of any ground to sit on. “Sit down,” he says, waving a hand at the space next to him. “I don’t know how long it’ll be, but it’ll feel like a while.”

Renjun copies him, still feeling disembodied. In a sitting position, he feels even more like he’s floating. “How’d you get out last time?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” says Jeno. “I couldn’t physically see what was happening outside, but I still knew what was going on. Like I saw it in my mind’s eye or something, you know? When you turned on that stage light, a portal appeared in all this nothingness. Pure, blinding white light. I just stepped through.”

Renjun purses his lips. “Well, I don’t think there’s anybody to shine a light on you this time,” he says, inflectionless.

“Is there anything you can do from inside here?” asks Jeno, expression open and unexpectant.

“I don’t know,” sighs Renjun. “I’m just Renjun in this space, not Ladybug. I don’t even have my Miraculous or my kwami with me, I gave them both to my dad.”

Jeno hums. “You know, Renjun, you think Ladybug and Renjun are these two completely separate identities, when they’re really not. You’re still Renjun even with the mask on, and Ladybug without.”

Renjun twists his mouth into a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what you think it means,” says Jeno, and offers nothing more.

After Jeno stops talking, Renjun can’t really think of anything to reply to that with. In the silence, Renjun’s overactive mind takes over. _I can you hear thinking,_ Renjun can imagine Jeno saying to him—he’s said it so many times before. _Don’t overthink it. The answer is much simpler than it seems._

Amidst all the confusion, a memory floats to the forefront of his consciousness. When Renjun had first gotten the earrings, he’d shut them back in the box. He didn’t want to be Ladybug and bear responsibility for protecting Seoul—he just wanted to be a normal teenage boy.

Renjun had begged Chenle to give the earrings to someone else, but the kwami had shaken his head. _You were chosen,_ he’d said. _With or without the earrings, you will always still be Ladybug._

Renjun had hated it. He’d fought it with every ounce of willpower he had, stubbornly refusing to even touch the earrings. And yet, when the first akuma struck and the city was in danger, he’d answered the call.

It’d felt so right, being Ladybug. Beyond the extra superhuman enhancements, it was if he’d never known what being comfortable in his own skin was like before then. Ladybug buoyed him with a confidence that he craved outside of the suit, and before long, he’d adapted to wearing Ladybug like a second skin.

 _You will always still be Ladybug,_ Chenle’s voice echoes in his mind.

“Lucky Charm,” Renjun says into the silence. A quiet command, without any of the volume or emotion he usually says it with.

As the blinding flash that bursts from his hands recedes, he feels a foreign weight in his open palm. It’s a simple brooch in the shape of a fan, blue gems inlaid into the end of each teardrop-shaped blade. He holds it to eye level, admiring the delicate craftsmanship, held together by a whispering energy of unknown power. It reminds him of a peacock’s feathers.

“Is that…”

“It’s no ordinary brooch,” says Renjun. He moves to pin it to the lapels of Jeno’s shirt, smiling in satisfaction as the pin clicks into place. He’d bet anything that this is another Miraculous. “Say something.”

“Spots on?” Jeno tries.

Renjun claps a hand to his forehead. “No, you idiot. Something related to peacocks. Like beak out, or ruffle my wings, or…”

“Spread my feathers?”

A dark blue light envelops Jeno from head to toe. Renjun startles—he’s never seen what the transformation process looks like from the outside. He shields his eyes against the light—and when he drops his hands back into his lap, Jeno is clad in navy peacock feathers.

Renjun waits with bated breath as Jeno looks at his own hands with unbridled awe.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he says, flatly, and the grandiosity of the moment falls to pieces.

“How the hell am I supposed to know?” asks Renjun. “Just… figure it out or something.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” asks Jeno, voice pitching. “You just gave me this brooch that you somehow conjured out of literally nowhere and you told me to say something and now I have to figure out how to get us out of here and— wait.”

Renjun waits.

Jeno spreads his fingers, curling them inwards like he’s playing with invisible string. “I can see your emotion,” he says, looking at Renjun like he’s staring straight through him. “Fear, and anxiety, and… affection. Love.”

He clasps his hands together, squeezing as they’re back in art class and he’s moulding clay. “Your emotions are so tangible, Renjun,” he says, and Renjun whines in protest. “I can shape them like this.”

When he brings his hands apart, a feather grows out of the tips of his fingers. He hands it to Renjun. “Take this.”

Renjun takes it, clutching it tightly. If this is anything like akumatization, he needs an object to put the feather in, but he has nothing with any emotional significance on him. Nothing except—

As he moves, his pocket rustles. Renjun pulls out a scrap of paper from months ago, a note he’d forgotten to throw away. _For the sweetest boy in my life,_ it reads. _Love, Chat Noir._

Renjun touches the feather to the paper. The note absorbs it, glowing with a soft blue.

In the empty space, a ball of light starts to form. As it grows, it shapes itself into a white fox, glowing with power. “It’s made of your emotions,” says Jeno. “You love him a lot, don’t you?”

Renjun doesn’t know if he means Chat Noir or Jaemin. It doesn’t matter either way—they’re the same person. “I do.”

“Open a portal,” he tells the fox. “Get us out of here.”

The fox tilts its head at him, as if it’s waiting for something else.

“Take me back to Jaemin,” says Renjun.

The fox stares at him, unblinking, before it pads away. When it sneezes, making the cutest little noise Renjun’s ever heard in his life, a rectangle of white light appears.

Jeno reaches for his hand, pulling him upright. “That’s what it looked like last time,” he says. “That’s our way home.”

Renjun smiles. “Then let’s go home.”

🐞🐱

The instant they return to reality, Renjun’s flooded with a cacophony of sound and light as every remaining bubble bursts at once, a swarm of akumas flying into the sky. Jeno’s back in his normal clothes, but the brooch is still pinned to his shirt, except it’s glowing purple now. He quickly unpins it, handing it to Renjun. “You know what to do,” he says.

Renjun does know what he has to do, but he doesn’t know how to do it. Without his Miraculous, he can’t do much—they’re not in the dreamscape anymore. “I—”

“Renjun!” calls a voice, and Renjun’s heart leaps at the sound.

He whips his head around, breaking into a grin when he sees Jaemin sprinting towards them. He’s no longer transformed, in normal Jaemin attire again. “Jaemin!”

“Catch!” yells Jaemin, once he’s just a few meters away. Renjun nimbly snags the box Jaemin tosses at him out of the air, knowing what it is as soon as it lands in his hand.

He opens the box and wastes no time in putting the earrings back into his lobes, ears no longer feeling oddly light with their familiar presence. “Everything good with Papillon?”

“They’ve subdued him,” Jaemin pants, skidding to a halt in front of Renjun. “It’s all up to you now.”

“Any day now,” says Chenle, appearing out of nowhere and flying into Renjun’s face.

“Okay, okay,” says Renjun, but he can’t wipe the grin off his face. “Chenle, spots on!”

🐞🐱

Once he’s transformed, it’s quick work snapping the brooch and watching an akuma—the final one—fly out of the broken pieces. Renjun catches it in his yo-yo, releasing it once the butterfly’s been purified from dark purple to soft white.

“Bye, bye, pretty butterfly,” he coos at it, unable to help himself. It’s ingrained into him, at this point.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

As the swarm of little ladybug appears, his resetting power restoring everything back to how it was before this whole mess started, Renjun catches Jaemin staring at him. Even after all this time, he can’t believe how much fondness for someone Jaemin can hold in his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Renjun tells him.

Jaemin snorts. “That’s probably the most unromantic thing you’ve ever said. Huang Renjun, you continue to outdo yourself. But,” he says, once Renjun starts pouting, “I’m glad you’re alive too.”

“You guys are so lame,” says Jeno. “Are you gonna be like this all the time now?”

“I’m especially glad you’re alive, Jeno,” says Jaemin, pulling him into a hug and squeezing so tight Jeno looks like he’s stopped breathing. “You worried us, you big dummy. Don’t ever do that again.”

“No promises,” says Jeno, looking so grave it’s comical. Renjun and Jaemin break into peals of laughter, and soon enough Jeno drops the serious act and joins in.

“Spots off, Chenle,” says Renjun, deactivating his powers as the artificial night fades back into day. As soon as he’s in civilian clothes again, he pulls both Jaemin and Jeno in for a hug.

“Fuck this shit,” he says, letting Jeno and Jaemin go after they complain about not being able to breathe. “I’m exhausted.”

Jeno and Jaemin exchange a look that Renjun doesn’t like. “Some things never change,” says Jeno.

Renjun crosses his arms. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what you think it means,” says Jeno, smug.

“You’re so cute when you swear like a sailor,” coos Jaemin, pinching his cheek and resisting Renjun’s attempts to bat his hand away. “My little Renjun, so strong and yet so adorable.”

“Don’t call me that,” snaps Renjun, but it comes out more like a whine. Jaemin just laughs.

🐞🐱

“You have a lot of explaining to do, young man,” says Renjun’s dad as soon as they get home.

Renjun gawks. “ _I_ have a lot of explaining to do? What about _you_?”

His dad lets out a long-suffering sigh, sitting down on the couch and melting into the cushions. He pats the spot next to him. “Okay, I guess we both have a lot of explaining to do.”

Renjun sits down. “Who starts first then?”

“I will,” says his dad. “I was Ladybug before you after all.”

His dad used to be Ladybug and his mom used to be Chat Noir, his dad tells him. After everything that’s happened so far, Renjun doesn’t find it too hard to believe. They met as teenagers and fell in love.

“I see the way you look at your Chat Noir,” teases his dad. Renjun flushes. “So I don’t think your story is too different from mine. I’d give him a talk, but,” he shrugs, “Chat Noir and Ladybug always protect each other.”

Renjun sighs in relief. “Thank God. I don’t think I could’ve handled that.”

“But,” his dad cuts in before he can get too comfortable, “just know that if he ever breaks your heart, I can and will destroy him, Chat Noir or not.”

Renjun laughs. “Okay, Dad. And what about that guy you’ve been seeing? You still haven’t brought him home to meet me.”

Now it’s his dad’s turn to be embarrassed. “Baekhyun really wants to meet you,” he says, cautiously, “but I wasn’t sure if it was too soon.”

“If you like him,” says Renjun, laying a hand on his dad’s shoulder, “then I’m sure I will, too. You deserve to be happy, Dad.”

His dad smiles. “Well, if you’re sure, how does dinner on Friday sound?”

“Great,” says Renjun, and means it. “I can’t wait.”

“Wait,” says his dad, catching his wrist as he moves to get up. “One last thing.”

Renjun sits down and waits patiently for his dad to finish talking.

“I won’t stop you from being Ladybug,” starts his dad, “because I know what it means to you, and what it means to everyone else. But please, be careful. I can’t lose you, too.”

“I promise,” says Renjun.

“That’s not something you can promise,” says his dad, but hugs him anyways.

🐞🐱

He and Chat Noir are sitting on top of Myeongdong Cathedral again, tucked into each others’ sides and watching the stars twinkle.

Ever since the fall of Papillon, their monthly patrols have turned into excuses for dates. Sure, they stop the occasional petty criminal every now and then, but it’s nothing on the scale of criminal masterminding that Papillon put them through.

“Did you do the physics homework?” asks Renjun, suddenly panicked. “I totally forgot about it.”

Chat Noir—Jaemin—shushes him, pressing a finger to his lips. “Physics later,” says Jaemin. “Let’s not talk about that right now. I want to cuddle.”

“You didn’t do it, did you,” Renjun deadpans.

Jaemin makes an _ahem_ noise. “Physics later,” he repeats.

Renjun sticks his tongue out at him, giggling when Jaemin tickles him. “That’s not fair,” he laughs in stuttered breaths, trying and failing to bat Jaemin’s hands away. “You can’t just distract me from school stuff like that! How are you going to get into college at this rate?”

“Easy,” breathes Jaemin, a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll tell them that I’m Chat Noir and my résumé is way more impressive than some old CSAT scores.”

Renjun laughs. “And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then you can go to college,” says Jaemin. “And I’ll be your hot delinquent boyfriend that picks you up after class.”

“Not fair,” argues Renjun. “How come I have to go to college and you get to be the hot delinquent?”

“You’re too smart to waste to waste your superior brain like that.”

“Says the one with the higher class rank!”

“You’re too adorable?” Jaemin tries. “Our classmates would severely miss you if you dropped out?”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Renjun grumbles.

“Are you only dating me for my— _mmf!”_

Renjun cuts him off with a kiss, looping his arms around Jaemin’s neck to pull him down. Their lips move together languidly, relaxed. They’ve got all the time in the world.

When they pull apart to breathe, Jaemin rests his forehead against Renjun’s, holding his hands like they’re a lifeline. “I love you,” he says, breathy and quiet and dripping with conviction.

And somehow, in this ephemeral, ever-shifting world they live in, Renjun finds the bravery to say, “I love you too.”

**Episode 6: ???**

There’s more to the story that Renjun’s dad forgets to tell him.

Like how the car accident his mom died in was never an accident at all. Like how Papillon used to go by Jackson, and used to call himself Yixing’s best friend. Like how he was deceived into taking on the mantle of Papillon and poisoned into turning against his closest friends.

But that’s a story for another day.

🐞🐱

The butterfly brooch lies forgotten, sealed tightly in a box and buried under junk and rubbish. It lies there for days, months, years. But it never stops glowing. Never stops calling.

To its old master, and its new one.

_To be continued… ?_

**Author's Note:**

> aite aite aite aite aite aite aite you got me feeling like a feeling like a papillon
> 
> thank you for reading! jisung is jaemin's kwami in case u missed it!


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